


25 Days of Chubmas - 2020

by Chubby-derek-and-friends (da_athanasi)



Category: Schitt's Creek, Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Chubby Dean Winchester, Chubby Derek Hale, Chubby Jackson Whittemore, Chubby James “Bucky” Barnes, Chubby Kink, Chubby Patrick Brewer, Chubby Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Chubby Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mpreg, Poly pack, Rope Bondage, Weight Gain, chubby Steve Rogers, feederism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 20,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27818209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_athanasi/pseuds/Chubby-derek-and-friends
Summary: A daily chubby kink challenge for December 2020:1. “Bowl Full of Jelly”2. “Two Sizes Too Small”3. “Plums and Pears”4. “Hot cocoa with Marshmallows”5. “Cookies for Santa”6. “Oh Fudge!”7. “Stuffed like a Turkey”8. “On the (Christmas) Market.”9. “Snug as a Pig in a Blanket”10. “Buttons are just Ornamental”11. “Tinsel Strength”12. “Mulled Wining and Dining”13. “Arts and Craft Services”14. “Hibernation Preparation”15. “Beached for the Holidays”16. “Candy is Dandy”17. “Apple of my Pie”18. “How I Ate on My Christmas Vacation”19. “Round the Tree”20. “Wrapped Up Tight”21. “Skating on ~~Thin~~ Thicc Ice”22. “Ghost of Christmas (Re)Pasts”23. “Christmas Movie Marathon”24. “The (Mid)night (Snack) Before Christmas”25. “I’m Dreaming of a Wide Christmas”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Danny Mahealani/Jackson Whittemore, Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore/Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore
Comments: 12
Kudos: 172





	1. “A Bowl Full of Jelly” Teen Wolf: Chubby!Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek discuss the merits of Jello.

Stiles poked the mound in front of him, watching it jiggle and shake. 

“I mean, come on, Derek, who makes a Jello mold anymore,” he asked quietly, not wanting to offend any of the other wolves who had already served themselves and made their way into the living room.

Derek snorted, piling another spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Careful, that’s Grandma Boyd’s special recipe.”

Stiles shot a quick glance at the living room to make sure he hadn’t been overheard, but Boyd seemed entirely too busy being fed something with a spoon by Erica to have noticed him. Stiles turned back to Derek. “Very funny, big guy,” he snarked. “If you think it’s such a big deal why don’t you try some?”

Derek smirked back at him. “Oh, I was planning on it.”

Stiles shook his head and walked around the table to grab several pigs in blankets and put them on his plate. He continued around the table slowly, pretending to study the food available, but in reality he was watching Derek. The alpha werewolf had already piled his plate high with turkey, ham, potatoes, Mac and cheese, and a hearty helping of cornbread stuffing drenched in gravy, but he continued to look over the food on the table like he’d never eaten before. 

Stiles let his eyes travel down From Derek’s face to his torso, where his once flat stomach used to be. Now, a rounded pot-belly and wide love handles stretched the green sweater he wore.

Stiles wasn’t sure how werewolves could even put on weight with their supernatural metabolisms but Derek seemed to have gained at least 25 pounds in the last several months. Most of them he’d spent living with the Stilinskis while he had the old Hale house rebuilt, so Stiles had been privy to every pound Derek had put on, seeing as the wolf had a tendency to walk around the house half-naked most of the time. Not that Stiles minded all that much, but it was also harder to find time for his private enjoyment of Derek’s impromptu skin shows when you lived with a werewolf.

Even the Sheriff had noticed that Derek had been chubbing up, making a point to check in on him. Derek had pushed off the man’s worries with a remark about it being a born-wolf thing, and adding in something about having a safe den to come home to. Stiles did his best not to let that thought play through his mind too often or to think too hard about what it meant. 

Not that Stiles minded the weight. Derek looked happier, more settled, with the additional pounds, though Stiles would never tell him that out loud…or at least not until he could figure out how to confess his undying love for the man without coming off as a creeper.

Across the table, Derek took a large serving of the gelatinized monstrosity in front of him and piled it on top of his already full plate, then looked up and winked at Stiles before turning and walking out of the room.

Stiles could only shake his head in response, and watch as Derek’s wider hips and rounder ass sashayed into the living room.

“At least that’s some jelly I can get behind,” he said under his breath.

Derek turned his head and raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

Stiles’s face immediately flamed red. This was gonna be a long night.


	2. “Two Sizes Too Small” Teen Wolf: Jackson Whittmore & Chubby!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes shopping with Jackson...and learns some things.

“So what do you think?”

Stiles held up a pair of pink pajama pants covered in little prancing cartoon reindeer.

Jackson scoffed. “Really?”

Stiles’s hands drooped. “Yeah. Why not?”

“You really think Lydia would wear something like that?” Jackson asked sardonically.

“What, you think she’d rather have the ones with the trees?” Stiles replied, gesturing to a pile of light blue pants covered in dancing Christmas trees.”

Jackson stared at Stiles stone-faced. “No.”

Stiles deflated somewhat, and shrugged as he folded the pink pants back up. “I thought they were cute.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and wandered off. “Who needs all this Christmas-themed crap anyways,” he muttered.

Stiles followed him. “Wow, sounds like someone’s heart is two sizes two small,” he teased.

“I’m not a Grinch.” Jackson protested. “I just hate that there’s so much ugly crap put out there that people are expected to buy! I mean, look at this!” Jackson pointed to a t-shirt that had a drawing of Santa on it in a typical pin-up pose, with the words, “Naughty or Nice?” Underneath it.

Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Okay, that’s pretty bad,” he conceded.

“It’s awful!” Jackson exclaimed.

“Oh c’mon Jackson, It’s not all bad! This is kinda cute.” Stiles picked up a miniature Joshua tree covered in multicolored LED lights. 

Jackson groaned.

“You ARE a Grinch!” Stiles accused.

“Am not!” Jackson said, “and don’t talk to me about things that are ‘two sizes too small’ when you’re wearing those pants.”

“Wha!” Stiles squawked, spinning around to find a mirror in the store, then quickly making his way over to examine his reflection. “These pants fit me!” Stiles said. 

Jackson followed stiles at a more sedate pace, giving a smiling nod to the woman who was looking between Jackson and Stiles with a slightly scandalized expression. He gripped Stiles arm and spun him around so his backside was facing the mirror. “You sure about that?”

Stiles stared over his shoulder. The Jeans he was wearing were hugging…okay, more like clinging for dear life to his ass. And that ass had definitely gotten bigger than the last time he’d looked. Sure, Stiles knew he’d put on some weight since he’d started college, but didn’t everybody? And Derek certainly hadn’t given him any grief over it. In fact, his boyfriend had been, if anything, more physically amorous. 

“These are Derek’s favorite jeans,” Stiles protested weakly. 

“Of course they are,” Jackson huffed out. “Better face it, Stiles. Your boyfriend is a chubby chaser.”

Stiles jerked around to look at Jackson. “A what?!”

“A chubby chaser. An encourager. Somebody who likes their men with a little more cushion for the pushin’.” 

Stiles looked back at himself in the mirror. His butt had definitely grown into a bubble butt, but he also had tiny little love handles peeking over the waistband. He looked down at his front, and saw, as if for the first time, the rounded belly pooch there. Did Derek really like Stiles’s chubbier frame? A part of Stiles had begun to get excited at the thought. 

“Oh jeez, you’re into it, aren’t you?” Jackson asked. 

Stiles thought about it for a second, then shrugged. “Maybe.”

Jackson shook his head. “Of course you are. You two are perfect for each other.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff anyways?” Stiles asked. “Didn’t you and Danny just start dating?”

Jackson blushed lightly and looked down for a second. “I did a little research of my own before I came out. Wanted to see what was out there.”

“I see…” Stiles said, “and the fact that Danny seems to have gained the freshman fifteen himself has nothing to do with it…right?”

Jackson’s expression soured. “Shut up, Stilinski.”

Stiles chuckled softly.

Jackson looked up and around the store. “There is nothing here for Lydia or Danny. I’m gonna go check out Express.” 

Stiles watched him leave the store. That was definitely something he hadn’t expected to learn about Jackson. Then again, Stiles thought as he looked back at his reflection, there were other things he’d learned today too. 

After a moment of consideration, Stiles turned from the mirror and returned to the pile of pajama pants. Lydia would probably think the soft fleece pink pants were cute, despite Jackson’s protestations. And if Stiles also picked up a pair of the blue pants in extra large for himself, well, no one else was around to see him buy them.


	3. “Plums and Pears” Avengers: Chubby!James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky enjoy a quiet evening at home.

Steve looked up as Bucky walked out of the kitchen, eating from a plate in his hands. 

“Dinner didn’t fill you up, babe?”

Bucky shrugged. “Just needed something sweet.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile a little at the statement from his boyfriend. After all, Bucky had been making that statement every night for the past three months. 

“What didya get?” Steve asked. 

“Some of that plum pudding we bought at that little British bakery on 4th.” Bucky replied.

Steve watched as Bucky made his way over to the couch, taking in his overly mounded plate, as well as the width of his hips. 

“Seems like a lot, Buck,” Steve teased.

Bucky shrugged. “Figured I’d finish it off before it wasn’t any good,” he said, plopping down heavily next to Steve on the couch. He took a big scoop and filled his mouth with it, humming in contentment.

Steve’s smile widened. Ever since Bucky had been rescued from the clutches of Hydra, Steve had noticed that he had developed a very specific affinity for plums. Plum pudding, plum cake, plum sauce, plum jam, plum tarts, plum galette...(“There’s a difference?” Steve has asked. Bucky had only shaken his head in exasperation.). Anything with plums, and Bucky was hooked. Bruce had said the research he and Tony were able to turn up on the Hydra super soldier program led him to believe that it was a side effect of their serum. Multiple logs mentioned that the test subjects seemed to have fixations for specific foods, usually fruits. Steve just counted himself lucky that his serum hadn’t had the same side effect. 

What the logs and research hadn’t shown was that this hyper-fixation seemed to lead to weight gain. Steve didn’t know if the other soldiers had had the same reaction. It could have just been that Bucky’s new favorite fruit was really only reliably found in desserts and sauces and jams. Plums weren’t consistent to find fresh in New York City, at least as far as Steve had been able to locate. So maybe it was the fact that Bucky’s diet had been saturated with with butter and sugar as well as the plums he loved so much he contributed to his weight gain. In any case, Bucky was carrying at least forty pounds more than he had been when he was rescued. Some of that weight had spread all over, giving him an overall thicker look, but the majority seemed to be concentrated around Bucky’s hips and thighs, giving him a decidedly pear shape. 

Beside Steve on the sofa, Bucky scraped his plate clean and licked the last crumbs off of his fork. Steve looked the man up and down, noticing how relaxed he looked compared to how stiff he had been previously. He also took his time scanning over how tight the sweatpants Bucky wore were, and the way they clung to his big, heavy thighs. Steve involuntarily licked his lips.

“What?” Bucky asked, breaking Steve’s revelry.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at me. Did you want me to save you a taste or something?”

Steve smirked, and leaned in and kissed Bucky, making sure to lick the sweet flavor from his cheek, then leaned back to meet Bucky’s eyes. 

“I always wanna taste of you, Buck.”

Bucky scoffed and leaned back against the couch, but Steve could see the way his face reddened and the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Always such a sap, Rogers.”

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s wide thigh and smiled broadly. “Only for my sugarplum, Barnes.”


	4. “Hot cocoa with Marshmallows” Teen Wolf: Chubby!Derek Hale/Chubby!Jackson Whittemore/Chubby!Scott McCall/Feeder!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and his big boyfriends have some cocoa.

Stiles stood over the stove, gently stirring the ingredients in the saucepan. Around him, several large bags marked “Bavarian Drinking Chocolate” littered the counter, as did an empty cream carton. The mixture in the pan bubbled softly as Stiles swirled a spatula through it, mixing the white cream and dark brown melted chocolate. 

Stiles had been intending on saving this special hot cocoa mix for Christmas, but between the uncanny ability of his werewolves to sniff out anything sweet he tried to stash away, and the puppy-dog eyes/pouting/disappointed glares they’d fixed him with when he tried to put them off, Stiles had given in. Now here he was, making what was essentially very expensive, very thin chocolate ganache for Derek, Scott, and Jackson to drink. At least Boyd, Erica, and Isaac were away on their own Christmas holiday/thruple’s vacation, otherwise he would have needed to go out and get more. 

Stiles hummed to himself as he began ladling the chocolatey mix into three of what were essentially steins, as well as a much smaller fourth mug for himself. “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas...” he sang softly under his breath. 

“Stiles...” whined Scott from the other room. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he called back, placing the now full mugs of hot cocoa onto a tray, along with the full tin of chocolate chip cookies he’d baked the day before. He grunted at the weight when he picked it up and began carrying it into the living room of the rebuilt Hale house. 

“Finally,” Jackson huffed out as Stiles entered the room. 

Stiles scoffed. “Y’know, I bought and made this special hot cocoa just for you guys. The least you could do is whine a little bit less.” Stiles distributed the steins, one to each werewolf, and placed the extra-large tin on the coffee table, then sat down in the armchair off to the side with his own mug. 

“But we’re starving!” Scott pouted, already grabbing a handful of cookies and pushing them into his mouth. 

Stiles rolled his eyes foldly. “Oh, I’m sure. It’s been, what? An hour since dinner?” He looked over at the three wolves squeezed onto the couch together. Between the three of them, there had to be at least 1,200 pounds of werewolf on that couch. It was a wonder it hadn’t given out yet. 

“An hour and a half,” Derek corrected, sipping on his cocoa before following Scott’s lead and stuffing a cooking into his mouth, bloating his already rounded cheeks. 

Stiles snorted. Looking at his werewolves, he sometimes wondered how they’d gotten where they were; the four of them, in a polyamorous relationship that leaned heavily (pun intended) into weight gain and feederism. Stiles, oddly enough, was the thinnest one of the group. Sure, he’d put on a few pounds since high school, but it was nothing compared to his three werewolf boyfriends. And despite weighing roughly the same, the three of them each had a body shape all their own. 

Jackson, for instance, was a Michelan man, his body a collection of soft, fluffy rolls from his fat chest, double belly, and chubby thighs. He insisted on wearing his stylish clothes as much as possible, though they often clung to his folds like a second skin. 

Next to him, Scott’s weight was almost completely in his belly. Though his face had rounded out some and the rest of his body had thickened, he sat with his legs spread wide to allow his monstrous gut to fill his lap and overhang his knees. Scott was usually clad in jeans and t-shirts, though they rarely covered his belly past the navel, leaving anyone who saw him with a full view of his happy trail and the soft fat of his belly apron. 

Lastly, Derek filled the rest of the couch. A definitively pear-shaped fatboy, Derek’s doublewide hips and redwood thighs smooshed both into the sofa arm and into Scott. His sloppy love handles poured over the sides of his hips and his big, round ass cheeks pushed him to sit higher than the other two wolves did. He usually spent his time in skin-tight sweatpants that clung to his thunder thighs and bolder butt, along with tank tops. 

Stiles watched the three of them slurping down the rich, heavy hot cocoa and munching on the cookies. All in all, quite the calorie bomb of dessert they were eating. 

Stiles sipped his own hot cocoa, letting the rich fluid coat his tongue as he sighed contentedly. Across the room, the boys each looked over at him with love and affection as they continued eating. There was nothing quite like a night in, drinking hot cocoa with his marshmallows.


	5. Day 5: Cookies for Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a munch of the cookies left out for Santa.

Stiles quietly slid a box under the Christmas tree to nestle with all the others there. He froze as it bumped a bell-shaped ornament, then sighed with relief as he realized it didn’t have a clapper and was therefore silent. With a hushed groan, he straightened up and then took a step back to admire the tree. The lights twinkled in the darkened living room and the glittery ornaments reflected them so that the entire room felt like it was covered in tiny colored lights. He couldn’t help but smile at the way everything looked like some sort of magical fairy land...until he heard a loud crunch come from behind him. 

Stiles spun around at the noise, trying to determine its source. Behind him he found his husband, all 500 pounds of him, clad in his red and white sweatsuit that clung to his big fat belly and protruding bubble butt like a second skin. It took Stiles a second to determine that the crunching noise wasn’t the sound of something breaking, but rather the sound of Derek eating the gingerbread cookies that their children had left out. 

Stiles marched up to Derek and swatted his heft belly, making it jiggle. “Hey! Those are for Santa!” he whispered angrily. 

“Between the two of us, which one looks more like Santa to you?” Derek asked, his voice low but not quite quiet enough in Stiles’s opinion. 

“Shhhhhh! You’ll wake the boys!” Stiles chided. “And which one of us wrapped and put out all the presents?” Stiles gestured to the tree behind him which had a mound of prettily wrapped boxes surrounding it. 

Derek crunched into another bite of cookie. “We both have our jobs. Yours was to wrap and place, mine is to eat the cookies.” Derek said. 

Stiles shook his head, then looked up as he heard a groaning floorboard from the bedroom above. Looking back at Derek, he motioned for the man to follow him as he quickly made his way out of the living room and down the hall to their bedroom. 

When they got there, the door closed behind them, Stiles sighed in relief and slumped onto the bed. 

Derek crunched into another cookie from the doorway, causing Stiles’s head to pop up. 

“Seriously, Der?” he whispered. 

Derek shrugged. “What? It’s not like they’re going to waste.” 

Stiles snorted. “No, but they’re probably going to waist. W A I S T.” He leaned forward and poked Derek’s gut, watching the flab shift and jiggle again. “You know that was the 8th batch of cookies I had to bake this past week in order for the boys to have some to even leave out tonight.”

“I was just taste testing...”

“Taste testing. Uh huh. Let’s see, there were the chocolate chip toffee. You said they were ‘too sweet for Santa’ before you munched down all three dozen of those. Then there was that batch of almond shortbread, which wasn’t festive enough. Then the Linzer cookies...’too jammy’...and the coconut macaroons...’too snowy’...which I still say isn’t a valid critique...”

“What, you think Santa wants more things that remind him of snow and ice? He lives at the north pole!”

Stiles gave Derek a deadpan look, then continued. “Then there were the pistachio swirls, and the caramel thumbprints, and then the chocolate crinkles...now the gingerbread!”

“So I like my husband’s baking. Is that a crime?” Derek said, sitting down on his side of the bed with his back to Stiles. 

Stiles huffed in exasperation, pulling himself up the bed so he could wrap himself around Derek’s broad back. “I’m not upset that you liked them, Derek,” he whispered, caressing the sides of Dereks belly. “I LOVE that you love my cooking and baking. I love that you eat like you can’t get enough of it! Hell, I love that you’re twice the size you were when we got married!” Stiles said. He squeezed Derek’s rolls lovingly. 

“So what has you so amped up?” Derek asked, turning to look at Stiles over his shoulder. 

“It’s just...you could have left a COUPLE of cookies for me, you know?” Stiles said, “and I had to make THREE trips to the grocery store this week to be sure I had enough ingredients to bake all those cookies. That’s time I could have spent with the boys.”

“...oh” Derek said softly. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

Stiles leaned forward and kissed Derek’s stubbled cheek. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. And I know it takes a lot to keep you fed, Chubbywolf. Just...maybe think a little bit before you snarf down EVERYTHING. Okay?”

Derek turned around more so he could kiss his husband properly. “Okay.”

Stiles slid back a little so Derek could lay in the bed fully, then pulled the covers up over himself and snuggled up to the man, laying his head on Derek’s plush chest. He brushed away a few stray gingerbread crumbs that still clung to his sweatshirt. 

“So is this gonna be the start of a new Christmas tradition?” Stiles asked. 

“Huh?” Derek asked groggily. 

“Because if it is, I’ll just order an industrial load of ingredients next year.”

Derek huffed softly. 

Stiles rubbed his hands over Derek’s belly. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea in general.


	6. Day 6 - “Oh Fudge!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve eats some fudge, at Bucky’s prompting.

“You sure you’re up for this, Rogers?”

Steve looked up at his fraternity brother with an incredulous expression. 

“Come on, dude!” Tony said to the guy, “This is ‘Iron Gut’ you’re talking about!” He put his hand on Steve’s rounded belly and gave it a shake. “This guy can handle anything!”

A belch spilled out of Steve’s mouth, scared up by Tony’s shaking. Around him, the other fraternity brothers of Sigma Eta Iota chuckled as they continued to set up their winter carnival booth. Steve himself put a hand on his gut and caressed it, the rounded mound of fat pushing out 6 inches from his proud chest.

He hadn’t always been this chunky. Actually, when he’d left high school and first started college, Steve had been a rail-thin pipsqueak. Then he’d joined the fraternity, and started working out and eating like crazy. Between that and a late growth spurt, Steve had put on 60 lbs, the majority of it muscle. He’d only had a slight belly pooch to go with his proud chest and firm bubble butt. Of course, that was before he’d made a name for himself with his ability to eat or drink anything. His fraternity brothers had started calling him “Iron Gut Rogers” and eventually the nickname had spread through the general population of the college.

This year, Steve and his fraternity brothers decided to put that reputation to good use for their winter carnival charity fundraiser booth, by having people purchase Christmas treats for Steve to eat. The idea was a little esoteric to some, but the boys hoped it would be different enough to catch the eye of a fair amount of people. If nothing else, Steve planting himself front and center at the booth in sweats and a crop top would be sure to get some attention. 

The first couple of hours were slow for the booth. In general, they were slow for the carnival. Most students still had morning classes or preferred to sleep in over getting up early on a Friday to roam the rows of charity and food booths. But Steve still managed to eat four gingerbread men, two chocolate chip cookies, and six pieces of fudge. He kept a gallon of milk in a mini fridge next to him so he could sip on it between treats. Eventually, the crowds picked up, as did the purchases at the ΣΗΙ booth. By lunchtime, Steve’s belly was looking even more rounded, pushing out over his lap. 

“You want me to pick you up a burger or something, Rogers?” Tony asked as he headed toward the caf. 

Steve belched in reply. “Sure! And maybe some chili fries?.”

“You’re an animal, man!” Tony called, before disappearing around a corner. 

Steve smiled to himself, both hands rubbing his belly to release any gas trapped inside. He was so focused on the task that he missed the man walking up to the booth in front of him. 

“What do we have here?” 

Steve looked up to meet the eyes of the man in front of him. “Barnes,” he greeted.

“I see you figured out a way to raise money and stuff your gut, eh Rogers?” Bucky Barnes said. His brown leather jacket showed off his broad shoulders but was left open to also show off how his t-shirt hugged his skinny waist. 

Steve shrugged in response, admiring the man’s physique. “Just trying to do my part,” he said. 

“Well, I suppose I should do mine, then, too.” Bucky walked over to the table of treats that were on offer. “Which one of these is your favorite?” 

Steve thought for a second before answering. “The fudge. Less chewing, more savoring.”

“You would pick a food based on how easy it was to hork it down,” Bucky teased, pulling out his wallet. “What is it, $5 a piece?”

Steve nodded, feeling a little warmer knowing that the handsome man was about to buy him something to eat. 

“Looks like about 50 pieces left here, Rogers. Think you could take down it all?”

Steve flushed. “I think I can handle whatever you can dish out, Barnes,” he answered with bravado.

“Is that right? Well, we’ll have to see about that.” He plunked down a couple of bills in front of Steve. “$250, Rogers. For all that fudge.” Bucky smiled down at him. “ You better get to work.”

Steve’s eyes widened as he looked between Bucky and down at the pile of fudge. Fifty pieces was no joke, but then again, he couldn’t exactly back down from a challenge. Especially one laid down by the guy he’d been harboring a crush on for two years. Not to mention how horny the idea of eating all that fudge for Bucky made him. The only thing better would have been having Bucky hand-feed him the fudge. 

But that wasn’t going to happen, at least not out here in public, so Steve simply picked up the first piece of fudge and slid it into his mouth, letting the chocolate begin to melt on his tongue. “Mmmmm,” he moaned softly, then looked up to meet Bucky’s eyes again. 

Bucky’s smile widened as his pupils seemed to dilate. He crossed his arms and continued to watch Steve eat. “One down,” he said, “forty-nine to go.”

Steve swallowed the mouthful, then leaned down and picked up his gallon of milk to wash it down. He kept the jug balanced on his thigh while he grabbed the next piece of fudge. 

He repeated the pattern; fudge, milk, fudge, milk, etc. The entire time, he maintained eye contact with Bucky, both of them reluctant to break whatever spell there was building between them. After about ten pieces, Steve opened his mouth and let out a loud burp. 

“Nice one, Rogers.” Bucky said. “You’re one-fifth of the way through. How’re you feeling?”

“Feeling fine, Barnes,” Steve lied. In truth, he was starting to feel a little queasy. All the sugar from the fudge combined with the milk was getting to him, not that he’d ever admit it. To do so would diminish his reputation as having an “Iron Gut.”  
Bucky seemed to recognize the lie in his statement, but didn’t call him on it. “Better keep going, then.”

Steve nodded, and grabbed more fudge. This time, he stuffed two pieces into his mouth, bloating his cheeks. It took several sips of milk to get them both down, but Steve was determined to win this game they were playing. He did the same with two more pieces, then two more after that…

With every swallow, now, Steve’s gut had begun to inflate. Rounding out in front of him and even to the sides, Steve felt his belly begin to sit on his thighs, then roll forward in his lap. Between pieces of fudge, he started palming his growing belly ball while he chewed and sipped milk, feeling the bloated mass increase, and trying to shift up any burps he could. 

After about 20 minutes, Steve had made a very considerable dent into the pile of fudge. 

“Only twelve more pieces to go, big man,” Bucky said. 

Steve was looking slightly green around the gills, but he would be damned if he was gonna give up now. 

“Hey, Steve, so they didn’t have any chili today but they did melt some cheese on the fries for…whoa!” Tony came walking up to the booth with an overpacked take out container from the cafeteria. “Holy shit, dude! Your gut looks enormous! Barnes, what have you need feeding him?” 

Bucky shrugged, not taking his eyes off Steve. “He said the fudge was his favorite, so I paid for him to finish it.” 

“Jesus, you’re both insane!” Tony said, shaking his head as he dropped the box of food onto the table. “Tell me you at least made him pay double.”

Steve shook his head in response, pushing another piece of fudge between his lips.

“Well, then you better at least kick his butt later. But right now, you got this! I-ron Gut! I-ron Gut!” Tony started chanting, which was soon picked up by a few of the passers by. 

Word of Steve’s challenge soon spread, and a small crowd formed around the booth as Steve continued to slowly eat fudge. Bucky stood stoically in front of him, arms crossed, as the crowd chanted Steve’s nickname. 

Ten pieces left…nine…eight…

Steve’s belly groaned and gurgled.

…seven…six…five…

Little burps pushed their way out of Steve’s mouth between pants as he soldiered on.

…four…three…two…

Steve’s belly was looking absolutely massive, and tight as a drum, but he determinedly picked up the last piece of fudge and stuffed it into his mouth, then chased it with a few last gulps of milk. 

The crowd around the booth cheered! Some exchanged money as Steve’s head lolled back and he dropped the empty milk carton in favor of rubbing his massive stuffed gut. Steve felt both massively turned on and incredibly nauseated.

“Good job, Rogers,” Bucky called. 

Steve raised his hand in acknowledgment, unable to move much else for fear of causing his body to voluntarily reject everything he’d just eaten. 

The crowd around him slowly dispersed, some of them making donations to the booth in lieu of purchasing further treats.

“Steve, you done good, kid!” Tony said. “That brings us up to five hundred buck for the day!”

Steve groaned a little, still nursing his gut. 

“I think you’ve earned yourself a break, big boy. Why don’t you go lay down or something? We’ll get one of the freshman to cover for you. That like maybe that Coulson kid.” 

Steve nodded, then slowly hoisted himself up to his full height, belly hurting proudly out in front of him.

Tony watched him lumber off, a smirk on his lips.

Steve slowly made his way through the carnival, past the food vendors and carnival games that other organizations had set up. He’d almost gotten to the end of the field when he felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around him from behind. 

“Jesus, Stevie, who knew you were such a pig” a voice whispered in his ear. Two hands groped at Steve’s engorged stomach. 

“They don’t…call me ‘Iron Gut’…URP…for nothing, Buck” Steve huffed out.

“I knew you had the capacity, big guy,” Bucky said, continuing to rub Steve’s belly.

Steve felt his dick throb. Bucky and he had been dancing around each other for two years, with only the occasional small touch here or there; nothing like the way Bucky was practically groping him now. “Buck,…” he whispered.

“What do you think, Rogers?” Bucky said, “there were still 25 gingerbread men and 16 chocolate chip cookies back there. You think you could finish them off?”

A massive belch, shaken up by all of Bucky’s massaging, exploded out of Steve’s mouth. With the release of pressure, the nausea he had been feeling also diminished, and Steve realized he definitely wasn’t done for the day.

“Gonna need some more milk.”


	7. “Stuffed Like a Turkey” Schitt’s Creek: Feeder!David Rose/Chubby!Patrick Brewer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick teaches David how things get stuffed.

David stood in the kitchen with his mother, surrounded by bowls and pans of ingredients. Moira had declared that she and David would be making Christmas Dinner this year, but David had insisted on at least one trial run to avoid another enchilada incident. Truthfully, David had actually picked up quite a few skills in the kitchen since then, but some things he was still a novice at. For instance, he had just finished mixing the stuffing ingredients, when Moira read off the next step. 

“Now, you stuff the turkey.”

“Excuse me?” David replied.

“That’s the next step, David,” Moira said, “You stuff the turkey.”

“I understand that, but what do you mean, ‘stuff the turkey?’ “

“You stuff the turkey, David!” 

“How do you stuff the turkey?”

“You just...stuff it, David!”

“Okay! We are not having another ‘fold in the cheese’ moment here!” David and Moira’s voices had begun climbing. “Patrick? Hun? Do you think you could come give us some input?”

A grunt came from the other room as David’s husband got himself up from the couch and began to make his way into the kitchen. Patrick’s big, hefty belly entered the kitchen a second before the rest of him as he waddled in. 

David smiled at his love, feeling the warmth spread through him that he always felt when he saw Patrick. 

“What’s going on?” Patrick asked, stuffing the last of the pile of cookies David had served him into his mouth, not breaking the small smile that seemed permanently plastered on his round face. 

“Well, according to my mother, we are now supposed to stuff this...stuffing...into the turkey, but neither of us know what that means.”

Patrick blinked placidly back at him. “Well,...hun...you stuff the turkey.”

“Thank you, Patrick!” Moira smiled at the man, “That’s exactly what I said!” 

“But you aren’t saying anything!” David contested, his eyebrows climbing his forehead as his voice climbed an octave. 

As Moira and David continued to bicker, Patrick shook his head, his smile widening, and waddled over to the sink, his belly shifting back and forth with every step. How David could manage to make enough baked goods to grow him from a size 32 to size 48 pants, and still not understand basic cooking instructions, Patrick didn’t quite get. But, Patrick conceded to himself as he washed his hands, David had plenty of experience in other areas. 

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” David yelled behind him.

Patrick took the opportunity to push himself between mother and son. “I’ll show you,” he said to David. 

“Fine!” David replied, stepping back to give Patrick access to the food on the counter. 

Patrick stepped up, and reached his hand into the bowl of stuffing, scooping out a mound and shaping in slightly between his hands, before reaching over and shoving the mound into the bottom cavity of the turkey. 

“Oh...” David responded, a look of displeasure on his face. 

“Patrick, dear, are you sure that’s how you do it?” Moira asked. 

Patrick nodded as he gathered up another mound. “You take the stuffing, and you literally stuff it into the turkey.”

“Oh wow...that’s...wow,” David said, watching as Patrick continued to fill the bird. 

“Fascinating” Moira whispered as she watched. 

Patrick giggled to himself as he kept going, packing the stuffing in until the cavity of the turkey was full. 

“Now you just sew it up.” He said. 

“Sew what up?” David asked. 

“The turkey. You sew it up so the stuffing stays inside.” Patrick replied. 

“That is the next step after stuffing it, David.” Moira confirmed, reading the recipe card. 

“But what do you mean, ‘sew it up’? It’s a turkey, not a Birkin bag.” 

Patrick rolled his eyes and headed back to the sink to wash his hands again. 

“Wait, where are you going?” David asked. 

“I’m going to get a needle and thread, and then I’ll show you how to sew up the turkey.” Patrick said, then planted a kiss on David’s cheek. 

David blushed at the casual contact and melted slightly, the beginnings of his rant forgotten...just as Patrick intended. 

*** A week later, at dinner ***

“So Patrick and I stuffed the turkey!” David said. 

“Ew, David!” Alexis exclaimed. 

Patrick snorted, taking a large bite of food from his mounded plate so he wouldn’t have to comment. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the siblings bicker and wonder how he’d ended up in this family.


	8. “On The (Christmas) Market” Teen Wolf: Fat!Derek Hale/Feeder!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles searches for Derek at their local Christmas Market.

Stiles looked up and down the rows of the Christmas market. Every year, the main street of Beacon Hills was replaced with a mile-long stretch of food vendors, craft booths, and carnival games. And every year, despite his best efforts, he lost Derek in the throng. Though how someone as large as Derek could be considered “lost” was still a mystery to Stiles, at least this year he’d brought along reinforcements. 

“Okay, so the caramel corn booth has already been hit,” Stiles said, pointing to where the people in the booth were new frantically trying to restock their wares. “And he’s already gotten hot cocoa at least three times, but Greenberg said he had different food items with him every time.” Stiles looked up at Scott. “Are you getting a scent at all?” 

Scott leaned his head back and sniffed the air. “Dude, no. All I’m getting is fried food and winter air. Sorry.”

Stiles shrugged. “It was worth a shot. At least this way you can go one direction and I can go another. Do you wanna go north or south?”

Scott looked up and down the row of vendors consideringly for a moment. “...South.” he determined. 

“Uh huh. And that doesn’t have anything to do with the Argent’s Shooting Gallery game being on the south end of the market?” Stiles asked. 

Scott shrugged sheepishly. “I can still keep an eye out for him on the way,” he suggested. 

Stiles scoffed. “Yeah, sure, buddy. Like you’ve got eyes for anything except Allison tonight.”

“Hey, I have to been on the lookout for a present for my mom too!” Scott tried to defend himself. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, knowing that Scott would probably end up buying Melissa another carved reindeer statue...she already had five from years past. Might as well go for the full set. “Just go.” Stiles said. 

Scott smiled at him and immediately turned to dash off.

“Just make sure you text me if you see him!” Stiles called after his friend. 

Pulling up his phone, Stiles navigated to the mobile App that Danny has designed for the market, which contained a map of all the booths. He was just trying to decide whether to head for the “Frosty’s Funnel Cakes” booth or the “Polar Bear Burgers” when he felt a huge mass bump into him from behind. 

“Jesus!” Stiles yelled, barely managing to stop himself from falling face-first onto the pavement. He turned around to be met with a wall of flesh. “Der! Babe! There you are!” Stiles spread his arms wide and wrapped them around the enormous belly in front of him. 

From about three feet away, Derek urrped out a belch as Stiles jostled his massively bloated paunch, then stuffed the second half of the burger he was eating into his mouth, causing his already massively chubby cheeks to round out even further.

“Jeez, Der! I know this is your favorite time of year, but you’ve really outdone yourself!” Stiles hefted the belly in his arms, feeling the massive weight of it as the fat-encased food balloon bounced and swayed.

“Last...night...of the...market...” Derek huffed out through his full mouth. “Gotta...make the...most...of it.”

Stiles slid his hands over the surface of the monstrous sphere, still covered by the enormous cream-colored caftan Derek wore. Every year, Derek challenged himself to get bigger than the previous year by eating as much as he could as the Christmas Market. With his werewolf metabolism, most, if not all, of the weight would be gone by Easter, so Derek took special pleasure in absolutely stuffing himself from Halloween through Christmas to see how massive he could get. It was a pastime that Stiles absolutely adored, doing his best to ensure Derek always had food at hand, or that he was always there to offer belly rubs when the outrageous amounts of food got to be too much for even werewolf healing to handle. Stiles may or may not have discovered his chubby kink watching how Derek attacked the food at this very market that first year they were dating. Now, he spent his winters exploring as much of Derek’s fantastically fattened body as he could before the spring thaw caused it all to melt away. 

“How are you feeling?” Stiles asked. 

“...pretty...stuffed...” Derek panted. He’d finished the stack of burgers he was holding and now had his arms stretched around his belly. So massive was the orb that even full outstretched, Stiles and Derek couldn’t quite reach each other’s hands. 

“You ready to head home?” Stiles asked. 

Derek stuck his nose in the air and sniffed, then shook his head. “Fresh...gingerbread...” he grunted. 

Stiles chuckled, and made his way around his boyfriend’s massive body to slap his huge, bulbous butt. “Then you better go get it before someone else can!” 

Derek lumbered off into the crowd, people parting for him automatically. 

Stiles wandered after him this time, making sure he didn’t lose sight of his enormous beau.


	9. “Snug as a Pig in a Blanket” Teen Wolf: Feeder!Derek Hale/Chubby!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles overdoes it a bit. Derek helps him feel better.

Derek knocked on the door to the Stilinski house. He’d meant to follow Stiles home from the party but had gotten caught by Melissa on his way out and ended up helping clean up. “Your pack, your responsibility,” she’d said, and Derek couldn’t do anything but agree, though her tone was tempered by her warm smile. Now here he was, thirty minutes later, outside Stiles’s door with a bag sent over by Mrs. McCall. 

Derek heard both a grunt and a groan coming from inside the house, followed by shuffling, and the slowly increasing volume of Stiles’s rapid heartbeat. After an extended length of time, the door finally swung open, revealing Stiles, wrapped in a blanket and looking green. 

“Wow, that was fast,” Derek said. “What, did you get home and immediately strip or something?”

Stiles glared at Derek and pulled the blanket apart to show that he was still wearing both his Jeans and his t-shirt, though the jeans were unbuttoned, and the t-shirt had ridden up to expose Stiles’s bloated potbelly. Stiles dramatically threw the blanket back around him, including over his head, and began shuffling back to the couch. Derek followed him. 

“I told you not to eat all of them,” Derek said, watching as Stiles slowly lowered himself to the cushions, then leaned back and began cradling his stomach. The blanket slipped back on the sides to show off his pale belly. 

“Shut up,” Stiles groaned, then let out a small burp and a moan. “Melissa only makes pigs in blankets for Christmas. I had to get my fill.”

Derek couldn’t take his eyes off the exposed flesh. Without thinking about it too much, he leaned over and poked Stiles’s gut, feeling both the jiggly outer layer and the firm, packed stomach underneath. His finger tingled from the contact. “You know they’re just hot dogs wrapped in crescent roll dough, right?” Derek teased. 

Stiles swatted Derek’s hands away, rubbing the spot where he’d been poked as if it were bruised. “Melissa does something special, some kind of black magic to them, “Stiles protested. “I can never get them to turn out the same way.”

“So instead of just asking her how she makes them, you stuff yourself with them every year?”

Stiles scoffed at Derek’s tone. “She won’t tell me. I’ve already tried!” Stiles continued to cradle his belly and looked up at Derek with puppy-dog eyes. “Der-ek!” he whined. 

Derek rolled his eyes and shrugged off his jacket before dropping onto the couch beside Stiles. He hesitated a second before taking a deep breath and sliding his hand onto Stiles’s round gut, fingers slipping beneath the hem of the t-shirt. Immediately, his veins began darkening as he pulled the pain from Stiles. 

Stiles melted into the couch with a moan. “Oh, thank Christ,” he said, “You werewolves are like fucking morphine.”

Derek snorted in amusement. “You know, I can tell that this...,” he wiggled his fingers so that the fatty layer around Stiles’s stomach jiggled, “...isn’t just from tonight. You’ve obviously been eating well at college, Stiles. And knowing you, that probably includes stuffing yourself. How do you handle that without a werewolf to take your pain?”

Stiles’s face flamed red at the movement, and he looked down so as not to meet Derek’s eyes. “...Pot.” he eventually answered. 

“Ah,” Derek replied, a smile on his face. “You good now?” 

Stiles nodded, and Derek removed his hand from his belly. Stiles immediately pulled down the shirt over his gut and shifted to sit more upright. 

Derek opened and closed his hand a couple of times, already missing the sensation of Stiles’s chub, though he couldn’t say it out loud. 

“You know, you don’t have to be a jerk,” Stiles said, pulling the blanket back around him defensively. 

“What?” Derek asked, eyebrows raising. 

“I know I’ve gotten chunky, okay?” Stiles said. “It’s college, it happens.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed. “I know...”

“And just because you have a supernatural metabolism,” Stiles continued on, “doesn’t mean you can make fun of those of us mere mortals who happen to put on some weight.”

“Stiles, that’s not what I was doing!” Derek protested. 

“Oh yeah? You didn’t just poke literal fun at my belly and then shake out your hand in disgust after touching it?”

Derek shook his head. “No.”

“Derek, I literally saw you.”

Derek’s expression hardened. “No, you didn’t, Stiles. You’re making an assumption.”

“Oh really?” Stiles replied just as harshly, “And what is it that you’re doing that I’m missing?”

Derek paused, mouth open, then closed it. 

“That’s what I thought.” Stiles said.

Derek shook his head and looked away. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. 

Stiles scoffed. “Sure, Der. I know I'm not as outrageously gorgeous as you and your betas are, with their cheekbones and pec for days and thighs that could crush marble, but that doesn’t mean I’m a bug that you scraped off your shoe.”

Derek looked back at Stiles, his mouth slack. Did Stiles really think he felt that way? Had he really been that bad at letting Stiles know what he meant to him?

Stiles looked up at Derek’s face, then rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Stiles, none of that is true.” 

Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Pretty sure everything I just said it 100% accurate, Derek.”

“No, it’s not,” Derek replied. “Stiles, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

Stiles scrunched up his face in confusion. “What?”

“I LIKE you. And I wasn’t disgusted by your belly, Stiles. It...it kind of turns me on.” Derek’s voice got really quiet. 

“Bullshit,” Stiles said. 

Derek shook his head. “It’s true, Stiles!”

Stiles sat forward. “You’re telling me, that you, Derek Hale, the epitome of male gorgeousness, are a chubby chaser?”

Derek blushed. “...An encourager.”

“What?” Stiles asked, eyes wide. 

“I’m an encourager. Or at least I think I am. It was the definition on the website that made most sense to my feelings. But I’ve never...you know...encouraged anyone...before.”

Stiles blinked at Derek. “Encouraged.”

“To gain weight,” Derek clarified. 

“You...wanna encourage guys to gain weight?” Stiles asked?

“Well, maybe one guy in particular,” Derek said shyly. “And only if he wants to.”

Stiles swallowed. “And if he doesn’t?” 

Derek shrugged. “Not a deal-breaker. But definitely a bonus,” he added. 

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes for a minute, seeing only honesty there. Eventually he cleared his throat and looked away. “So, what does an encourager do, exactly?”

Derek smiled, “Well, he encourages...offer’s food, provides motivation to keep eating, gives belly rubs when their partner is too full...” 

“Holy shit, you are an encourager...” Stiles whispered. 

Derek’s grin widened. 

Stiles swallowed again. “And what about...feeding?”

Derek turned and reached into the bag he’d set on the table. From inside it he pulled out a large Tupperware container and opened it to reveal that it was stuffed with more pigs in blankets. He took one out and put it up to Stiles’s lips. “What do you think?”

Stiles opened his mouth and accepted the morsel, not breaking eye contact with Derek. He moaned when the flavor hit his tongue. “I thought there weren’t any more of these?” he said though a full mouth. 

Derek shrugged. “I had Melissa hold some back. Thought I could give them to you as an early Christmas present.”

Stiles chewed and swallowed. “You planned this?”

“I planned on making sure you ate well. Didn’t have any plans beyond that.” 

Stiles looked at Derek, then over at the bag. “There’s more in there, isn’t there?”

Derek smirked. “I went by that bakery on Main and got a dozen of those crinkle cookies you like so much.”

Stiles let his head fall back. “Jesus, Der, you’re gonna make me so fat!”

Derek didn’t answer, instead picking up another pig in a blanket and pushing it into Stiles’s mouth.


	10. “Buttons Are Ornamental” Teen Wolf: Fat!Derek Hale/Feeder!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets Derek a new shirt to withstand his appetite.

“Alright, Babe, arms up!” Stiles held Derek’s new shirt gathered in his hands, standing in front of his boyfriend, who was sitting on the bed. 

Derek looked up at Stiles with confusion. “Stiles...it’s a dress shirt, isn’t it?”

Stiles nodded. “Mmhmm.”

“Then why wouldn’t I just put it on and button it up myself?” Derek asked.

“Because I had it specially made! Now come on, arms up!”

Derek’s already thick lips protruded further as he pouted, not liking being treated like a child. But he did what Stiles said anyways, raising his thick arms up in the air, the heavy rolls on his upper arms drooping off of them. 

Stiles slipped the shirt over Derek’s head, then helped him find the armholes. “There you go, Babe.”

Derek rolled his eyes, pushing his arms all the way through the sleeves and then pulling the shirt down. “Stiles, I can still dress myself, you know.”

Stiles smiled. “I know, Der. I’m just helping you out.” He patted the side of Derek’s hefty belly, watching the fat jiggle. 

Derek frowned, pulling the shirt all the way down. “I’m not that fat.”

“You’re not how fat?” Stiles asked, taking a step back to look at the shirt. It covered Derek’s belly completely and had plenty of tail to spare. The buttons along the front trailed down over the massive mound like an army of ants. 

“I’m not so fat that I can’t do things for myself,” Derek said. 

It was Stiles’s turn to frown. “I never said you were, Babe.”

“Right,” Derek scoffed, “You just keep doing things for me like I’m some sort of immobile blob.”

Stiles’s shoulders slumped. “Der, I’m just trying to help you.”

Derek sighed. “I know,” he conceded. 

Stiles paused for a minute, thinking. “Did something happen, Der?”

Derek shrugged slightly. “Earlier today, at the grocery store. I heard a couple of guys talking about us. They said...”

“What did they say?” Stiles prompted. 

“They said you probably had to wipe my ass for me because I was so fat.” Derek said softly. His face was pink with embarrassment. 

Stiles turned those words over in his head for a minute, then said, “Der, do you want to lose weight?”

Derek shrugged again. “Not...not really.” 

“We can stop this at any time. I don’t want you to feel pressured to keep going if you’re not happy, Derek.”

Derek nodded, chewing on his lip. “I just...I never thought about getting this big, you know?”

Stiles sat down on the bed next to Derek and put his hand on Derek’s back. “I know, hun. When we started out, you said just until 300. But then you decided to keep going.”

“We decided,” Derek said. 

Stiles nodded. “We decided. And we also said we would stop if you every felt uncomfortable or if you got too big. That’s totally your call to make, though. I can’t make it for you.”

Derek looked down at his belly, which covered his thighs halfway to the knees. Under his gut, his thighs and hips were even wider, and he knew his ass was absolutely massive beneath him. “But what about you? I’m not getting too big for you?”

Stiles scoffed. “Derek Hale! How can you ask me that? You know I love every single solitary pound of you!”

“Because I heard you on the phone earlier. You had to cancel lunch with Scott because the restaurant wouldn’t confirm they had armless chairs. I heard how disappointed you were!”

“I was disappointed,” Stiles replied, “because Scott wouldn’t choose a different restaurant. He said it was Allison’s favorite and he wouldn’t go anywhere else. If he won’t accommodate you, then I won’t put up with it.” Stiles said sadly. 

Derek looked up into Stiles’s eyes. “Stiles! He’s your best friend!”

“And you’re my boyfriend! And if my best friend can’t make a simple accommodation for my boyfriend then maybe he’s not as good a friend as he claims to be.”

Derek digested the words silently, looking into Stiles’s eyes. 

“Is that all that was bothering you?” Stiles asked. 

Derek blushed again. “Well...I didn’t exactly tell you everything about the grocery store earlier.”

Stiles’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did something else happen? Did somebody say something else?”

“No...it’s not that. It’s just that...when those guys were talking about how fat I was...I felt...” Derek trailed off. 

“You felt what, hun?”

Derek took a deep breath. “I felt...horny.” He looked back at Stiles to gage his reaction. 

Stiles smiled. “Yeah?” 

Derek nodded, hands rubbing his belly and love handles. “Yeah...hearing how huge they thought I was...how fat my ass is, how thick my thighs are...they kept saying things about how I must get stuck in doors all the time, or how I must need to shop at a tentmaker.”

Stiles swallowed, his throat dry. “Wow...” he said.

Derek smiled, smelling the arousal coming off of him. “You think you want that, Stiles?” he asked.

Stiles huffed out a laugh. “I mean, you’re probably not that far off, Der,” Stiles teased. “Would...would you be okay with that?”

Derek’s smile widened as he leaned into Stiles’s space and nuzzled his cheek. “I think I can handle it if you can.” He said. 

Stiles turned his face to bring their lips together, placing his hand onto Derek’s chubby, stubbled cheek. From below, Derek’s stomach gave a hearty rumble. Stiles pulled back with a chuckle. 

“Sounds like somebody’s hungry!”

“Hungry enough to pop a few buttons on this new shirt.” Derek replied, smiling. 

Stiles laughed out loud as he stood up. 

“What?” Derek asked, confused.

“Nothing, Der,” Stiles said, turning and offering his hands. “Come on, let’s get your shirt tucked in so we can head to dinner.”

Derek grabbed Stiles hands to steady himself as he stood up, his belly bumping into the skinner man when he reached his feet. Once he was up, he began tucking in the shirt tail into his pants. The elastic-waisted, Lycra-blend pants clung to Derek’s wide hips, broad thighs, and proud bubble butt. It took several minutes to get everything tucked in, but eventually Derek stood fully-clad in his new clothes.

“You look awesome, Babe,” Stiles said. “Shall we?”

***

The pair made their way inside “Howie’s Holiday Buffet,” Derek waddling slightly behind Stiles. His heavy belly shifted back and forth with every step, as did each big butt cheek. 

Derek listened to the soft comments people made around them as they entered the restaurants and made their way to the half-booth assigned to them and Stiles pulled out the table so Derek could sit on the bench. 

“Whoa, look at the size of that guy!”

“Did you see him almost fill the doorway?”

“No wonder he needs a bench with that butt!”

Derek smiled to himself and settled down with Stiles across from him. These people were in for a show. 

A waitress came up and got their drink orders, then directed them to the buffet to serve themselves. 

“Do you want to serve yourself, Der? Or do you want me to get food for you?” Stiles asked.

“I’ll get my own food. For now anyways,” Derek added with a wink.

Stiles smiled back.

The two of them got back to their feet and headed to the buffet. 

Derek grabbed a tray and two large plates to start, then began piling on food. Turkey, ham, roast beef with gravy, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, stuffing, also smothered in gravy, mac & cheese, green bean casserole, new potatoes, butter noodles, honeyed carrots, and more overfilled Derek’s plates before he made his way back to the table. Before sitting down, though, Derek went back up to the buffet for another plate filled with rolls and cornbread, along with butter pads and a hearty scoop of cranberry jelly. Then he returned to the table and sat down to begin stuffing in his first round of food.

Derek ate three full rounds, getting up to refill his plates himself, before he finally conceded that Stiles should get him food. Then he ate three more rounds. And with every round, Derek’s belly swelled visibly. Derek felt the fabric of his new shirt growing tighter across the front, but also across his sides, which felt a little strange and unexpected to Derek. 

A few more comments were made around him, which only spurred Derek to eat more heartily, or to proudly rub and caress his bloated gut. And beneath his gut, Derek’s cock throbbed with every snide remark. 

After six rounds, Derek was feeling very full, though not completely stuffed. 

“Ready for dessert, Babe?” Stiles asked him. 

Derek nodded, doing his best to shake up a few small burps to make more room. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Stiles he wanted to pop a few buttons tonight. With his old shirts, he would have had at least one button slipped from its hole by now, but this shirt refused to even gap. 

Stiles returned to the table with two plates piles with pie, cupcakes, cheesecake, and cookies, along with a big mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows. He could only smile when Derek dug in for round seven.

After two rounds of dessert, eight rounds of food total, Derek leaned back from the table absolutely stuffed. His hands groped the enormous sphere in front of him, trying to find if he’d accomplished his goal, but none of the buttons on his shirt had popped out! If anything, the shirt felt tighter on the sides than it did on the front! 

Stiles sat smirking from across the table. “Everything okay there, Babe?”

“S’fine,” Derek slurred, beginning to feel food drunk from being so stuffed. “Jus’ thought I could…pop a few buttons tonight.”

Stiles laughed, then leaned forward. “Der…Babe…I told you I was having that shirt specially made. It’s got expansion panels on the side, and the front and back are both solid pieces.” Stiles continued to laugh as he explained. 

“What?” Derek asked, confused.

“The buttons! They’re just ornamental!” Stiles chuckled.

Derek frowned, sliding his hands around the front of his belly to try and slip his fingers through the gap. Instead, he was met with a solid seam. 

“Stiles!” Derek grumbled.

Stiles stood up, still laughing to himself. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you home.” 

Derek grumbled about Stiles trick as Stiles helped pull him to his feet, and the entire ride back.


	11. “Tinsel Strength” Teen Wolf: Fat!Derek Hale/Feeder!Stiles Stilinski (Day 10 Continued)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Day 10: Derek and the shirt battle it out.

Stiles leaned back from the kitchen counter where he had just finished rolling out cookie dough, and wiped his arm across his forehead, smearing flour on his face. 

It had been several weeks since Derek had first worn the new shirt Stiles had had made for him, and Derek had been like a man on a mission, eating like some sort of starving army, in an attempt to make up for his inability to pop the buttons on the shirt. His increased appetite had forced Stiles to up his baking game, which meant Stiles had spent almost every evening for the past three weeks in the kitchen, making cookies. 

Stiles shook his head as he picked up his gingerbread man cookie cutter, slightly modified, and began cutting out cookies. One by one he slid them onto a baking sheet, then put the full sheets into the oven. With a few minute to rest, Stiles made his way into the den to relax. He sighed as he walked across the front hall, but paused when he got to the den door.

Sitting on the couch, Derek sat in his new shirt, heavy round belly stretched out in front of him. The mound of his gut filled Derek’s lap and sagged between his massive thighs. Despite wearing a dress shirt on top, which hugged every fold of Derek’s massiveness, his thighs were bare as he lounged on the couch in his underwear. A plate of cookies that Stiles had already baked sat atom the plane of Derek’s planetoid belly, from which Derek was munching continuously.

Stiles licked his lips as he took in the picture in front of him. God, Derek looked hot like this. 

Derek looked up at Stiles from the cookies. “Mohr?” He grunted. 

Stiles laughed and shook his head, walking up and plopping onto the couch next to Derek. “They’re in the oven, Sugarplum.”

Derek grunted an acknowledgment, then made grabby hands at the gallon of milk on the table in front of him. 

Stiles smiled, leaning around Derek to pick up the milk for him. “You sure I can’t convince you to play Santa this weekend?” Stiles asked as he handed the gallon over. “I mean, this thing definitely shakes like a bowl full of jelly!” Stiles put his hands on Derek belly and wobbled it, watching the ripples move through his fat.

Derek let out a burp, his free hand moving to steady the plate of cookies which had threaded to topple. “Hey…URRRRRPP…careful!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to miss a crumb there, Der.”

Derek glared at Stiles as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.

Stiles sighed and continued rubbing his hands over Derek’s belly, feeling how taught the fabric of the shirt was. Derek had to have put on at least twenty pounds if not thirty, since that night at the buffet, and it all seemed to have gone to his belly, if the way the shirt was straining was any indication. “You know, I was hoping this shirt would last a couple of months, Der.”

Derek shrugged. “You shouldn’t have used it to trick me,” he said.

“I wasn’t trying to trick you!” Stiles protested, then leaned forward. “But you’ve got to admit…it was pretty funny.”

Derek didn’t respond, only continuing to eat cookies. 

“Well,” Stiles said as he stood back up,” if you’re gonna keep eating like you’re gonna keep eating like you’re trying to come apart at the seams, I’m gonna need to get back to baking.”

As if on cue, the oven timer went off in the kitchen. 

Stiles turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. “By the way, Derek, those seams are all triple stitched with heavy duty thread. You could say I had it made with extra ‘tinsel strength’.” He pulled a strand off the tree and waved it at Derek. 

Derek groaned, then threw a cookie piece at Stiles’s retreating back as he left the room cackling.


	12. “Mulled Wining and Dining” Teen Wolf: Chubby!Derek Hale/Feeder!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have a first date.

Derek followed the scent of alcohol and spices to find Stiles, waiting for him in front of the mulled wine booth at the Holiday Market. 

“Hey, you found me!” Stiles said, a cup of steaming liquid held in his hand. 

Derek smiled. “I did.”

“Good! I was worried you might have trouble.” Stiles said. His voice was a little too loud and his words were slightly slurred. 

Derek raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the strangeness. Instead he said, “Well, it’s not my first time around the market. I have to walk it practically every day.”

“Bet you get plenty of looks, walking around in your uniform.” Stiles mumbled into his cup. 

“I guess?” Derek said. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Why?” Stiles asked.

“Because you sound like you’ve had at least three cups of wine. You’re slurring and you’re having trouble controlling your volume.” Derek said. “Are you drunk?”

“M not drunk,” Stiles replied, “I just needed a little liquid courage.”

Derek furrowed his brow. “For our date?”

“Well yeah! I mean, who wouldn’t be nervous to go out with…,” Stiles gestured at Derek, “all that!”

Derek looked down. He knew since becoming a deputy he’d put on a little weight…okay, maybe more than a little, if the way his belly stretched his sweater in the front was any indication. But really, every restaurant, every food shop, every little kiosk would push food on him whenever he walked by! How could he not put on weight in this job! Derek started to feel a little angry. 

“You don’t want to date somebody who looks like me.” He said flatly. 

“What? Are you KIDDING me?” Stiles asked

Derek shook his head, his stomach sunk to his feet. “Why did you even ask me out?”

“What? Derek!” Stiles said, catching on, “I LIKE the way you look, Derek. Like, REALLY like how you look. Jesus, Der,…I’vehadacrushonyousincehighschool.”

“What?” Derek asked, stomach unclenching slightly.

“I’ve had a crush on you since high school.” Stiles enunciated.

“We didn’t even know each other in high school,” Derek said. 

Stiles shrugged. “You didn’t know me in high school. Doesn’t mean I didn’t know you.”

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“It means you wouldn’t give me the time of day. Didn’t stop me from daydreaming about you…oh god” Stiles nosedived into his cup of wine, chugging the rest of it, before turning to the booth. “Another, please!”

Derek shook his head. “Well, I’m a far cry from who I was in high school.”

“Dude, aren’t we all?” Stiles said, taking his full cup from the guy manning the booth. “If anything, you look hotter!”

“Huh?”

“You’ve filled out. Makes you look more handsome.”

Derek blushed. “I meant personality-wise but thanks.”

“So…do you have plans on the twelfth?” Stiles asked. 

“No…why?”

“Well, Dad has the night off so we were gonna have our Hanukkah celebration that night. Wondered if you might want to join.”

Derek smiled. “We haven’t even finished our date tonight and you’re already inviting me on another one?” 

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe I’m an optimist.”

Derek gestured to Stiles’s cup. “Or maybe you’re drunk?”

Stiles defiantly took a sip with a raised eyebrow. “So what about it? We’ll have latkes. And jelly doughnuts. I know you like a good jelly doughnut, officer.”

Derek blushed harder. “Maybe…”

Stiles looped his arm through Derek’s and started to drag him off. “Well, come on, they’ve got some cookies over here you’ve got to try! And then they have churros at the other end of the market…”

“Stiles are you trying to fatten me up?”

Stiles didn’t answer, his face covered by his cup as he continued to chug wine. 

***

What Sheriff Stilinski did NOT expect to see when he opened his front door was his newest deputy in casual clothes, with the Sheriff’s son dangling from a fireman’s carry over his shoulder.

“Hale,” he nodded to the man.

“Sir,” Derek responded with a grimace. 

“Hey, Daddio!” Stiles called over Derek’s shoulder.

“Stiles,” the sheriff greeted. “I take it the date didn’t go well?”

“We’re still on it!” Stiles yelled. 

The sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Is that right, son?” He asked Derek. 

Derek shrugged, jostling Stiles. “I mean, I haven’t gone home yet.”

“I see. And the reason my son is currently playing the part of a sack of potatoes?”

Derek blushed, “Um, well, you see, sir, Stiles and I were walking around the holiday market they put up on Main Street,…”

“Ah, let me guess,” the Sheriff said, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame, “Stiles had too many cups of the mulled wine.”

Derek nodded. “I…uh…figured that I should get him home, but he wouldn’t go willingly, hence then carrying.” He gestured at Stiles’s legs.

“It was all a ploy!” Stiles shouted, “so I could get an uninterrupted view of this ass!”

Derek jerked suddenly and the Sheriff could guess that Stiles had just pinched his deputy. He pinched his nose and sighed. “Better bring him in, then, son.”

Derek nodded apologetically and started walking into the house.

Stiles, unperturbed, began drumming on Derek’s ass, shouting “babalooooooooo!”

Derek carried Stiles into the den and promptly dumped him onto the couch in a heap. 

“Ooof! Wow, negative points for the dismount! Minus ten out of ten, would not ride again!”

“Stiles!”

The sheriff shook his head, closed the front door, and headed upstairs. “Good night boys!”


	13. “Arts and Craft Services” Teen Wolf: AU Chubby!Jackson Whittemore & Feeder!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson has gotten himself into a pickle. Stiles does his best to help.

“Craft Services,” Stiles answered the phone. 

“Yeah, we need another jumbo platter delivered to Trailer Four.” The voice on the other end said.

Stiles sighed. “Really? He’s already had three today! Can’t he just come to the table like everyone else?”

“Director’s orders. All food is supposed to be delivered to his trailer. Guess the guy’s bulking up for the role and the director wants everyone’s reactions to be genuine when they see him.”

“At this point they’ll have to get a can opener to get him out of the dang trailer! Alright, alright, I’ll make the delivery.”

Stiles hung up the phone, then began filling several hotel trays with whatever food they had holding hot. Mashed potatoes and gravy, thick and creamy, went into the pan, along with about two pounds of fatty brisket, and a mound of gooey golden mac & cheese. Stiles also threw in a tub of coleslaw from the fridge, and a full tray of his special brownies, lest he get called back to deliver dessert. Everything got piled onto the back of a golf cart and Stiles drove off down the backlot to where the trailers for the cast were parked. 

Pulling up to number four, Stiles hopped out of his cart and began unloading the pile of pans on the steps of the trailer as he’d been previously instructed. He was just about to stack the brownies on top of everything when the door opened. Stiles looked up from the food and was immediately met with an unobstructed view of a wide, pale belly that practically filled the doorway.

“Holy shit!” Stiles yelled, looking up further to see the round face above him; the face belonging to former heartthrob Jackson Whittemore. 

The man inside made a cutting motion, “shut up! You wanna get us both fired! Bring that inside, will you?” He grabbed the tray of brownies off the stack and disappeared into the trailer.

Stiles stood frozen for a second, blinking stupidly, before he picked up the stack of pans and did as he was told.

Inside, the trailer was dark and cluttered, with empty trays stacked around the small area. Jackson sat on a loveseat in the back, a brownie in each hand as he stuffed his face. His big fat belly was bared for all to see, as was his flabby chest. Beneath his wobbly torso Stiles could just make out the he was wearing sweatpants spotted with stains, and that those sweatpants seemed to be clinging to the man’s thighs for dear life. 

“Dude…” Stiles said dumbly, standing just inside the door with the trays still on his arms.

“Cloh ah ooor” Jackson said through his mouthful of brownie.

“What?” Stiles asked.

Jackson swallowed audibly. “I said close the door!”

“Oh!” Stiles looked around for a place to set down his trays, before giving up, setting them on the floor, and then closing the door. “Dude…aren’t you...?”

“Jackson Whittemore, yeah,” he mumbled. 

“What…” Stiles swallowed, “what happened to you, man?”

Jackson gave Stiles a pitying look. “I toured wonka’s chocolate factory. What’s it look like, dumbass?”

“Is this really for your role?” Stiles asked.

“You could say that, yeah. Who’s ever heard of a skinny Santa, right?”

Stiles thought through the rumors he’d heard. He knew they were making a remake of “The Santa Clause” for a younger generation, but actually having their main star get fat was a new tactic.

“I thought they were making a fat suit for you.”

Jackson took another bite of brownie. “Were,” he said thickly. “Then the director changed his mind. Said he wanted the weight to look more realistic.”

Stiles smirked. “Well, it looks pretty realistic from here. What are you up, sixty pounds?”

“Seventy three.”

Stiles’s mouth went dry. “Wow.”

“Asshole director says he wants me up at least eighty when we start filming again.”

“Won’t…won’t that be hard to lose?” Stiles asked. 

Jackson mumbled something into his brownie that sounded like “duh you idiot.” 

Stiles thought for a second, then pressed on. “So who did you piss off?” He asked.

Jackson glared at Stiles, but didn’t deny the accusation. “Some producer. Made some comment about his boyfriend’s ass and he got everything set up so I have to become a whale for this movie or he has me ruined and run out of show business. Not that I’ll be staring in anything after this.”

Stiles shrugged. “Why not?” 

Jackson smacked his belly, letting the fat wobble. “Are you kidding me?”

“Okay, so you’re not a hardbody anymore! You’re still a good actor, right? And besides, people will praise your dedication to your craft!”

“Whatever,” Jackson said, then finished off the last of the brownies. His tone was petulant, but Stiles could tell by the shy smile turning up the corners of Jackson’s mouth that he’d made him feel a little bit better.

Stiles stood for a second as a plan started formulating in his head. “Here,” Stiles said, putting the stack of trays onto the couch next to Jackson. “You finish these off, and I’ll go get your next round.” Stiles started stacking up the used trays.

“The next round? Are you nuts?”

Stiles gave Jackson a slightly manic look. “Dude, if you’re gonna beat this producer guy, it’s gotta be at his own game. You gotta overshoot your weight goal.”

Jackson looked a little freaked out. “By how much?!” 

“Relax, dude, we’re only talking twenty pounds or so here. Just enough that he knows you’re the one in charge.”

Jackson still looked a little unsure. “You sure that’ll show him?”

Stiles smiled. “I’m positive dude. Now eat up!”

Stiles ducked out the door of the trailer, shutting it firmly behind him. He dropped the trays onto the back of his cart then hopped in himself. He paused for a moment, looking up at the trailer. Stiles had always been a little kinky when it came to guys. He loved feeding people, and the idea that somebody, let alone a guy like Jackson Whittemore, who had been known for his abs and cheekbones as much as for his acting, was gaining weight from his cooking had stirred up something in Stiles. Well, if the director wanted a fat Santa for his new film, Stiles would help make sure Jackson was more than ready for the role.


	14. “Hibernation Preparation” Teen Wolf: Chubby!Derek Hale/Chubby!Jackson Whittemore/Chubby!Scott McCall/Feeder! Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wolves get sleepy after they feast

Stiles slid another platter of food onto the table. He had to shift a few things to get it to fit but now there was a massive pile of ham on the buffet table along with the mound of turkey breast meat and the tower of roast beef, not to mention the overflowing bowls of mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, candied sweet potatoes, cornbread stuffing, potatoes au gratin, brussels sprouts with bacon, macaroni and cheese, ambrosia salad, broccoli salad, three bean salad, parker house rolls, and the soup tureen of gravy. There was also another table that was all charcuterie that had already been heavily decimated by the hungry werewolves who now stood around the buffet, crowding Stiles and sniffing the air. 

“Alright you bunch of animals, have at it!” he said. 

Almost immediately, Stiles was pushed back from the table as Derek, Scott, and Jackson fell upon the table. Stiles would almost swear there were bits of food flying through the air as the three werewolves snarfed down the comestibles without even using plates. Not that Stiles had expected anything less from them. It seemed that whatever wolf gene Derek’s family had shared, and by extension Jackson and Scott since they were bitten by Hales, they were prone to heavily overeating when it came to winter. Stiles suspected they were biologically predisposed to preparing for winter hibernation, a suggestion that Derek tried to shoot down. It was hard for him to disprove the theory though when he kept having to upsize his jeans and Henleys. Scott and Jackson had followed suit and were both putting on weight as well, though neither as much as their alpha. Stiles took a good look at the three of them. 

Scott, from behind, had broadened considerably, though he didn’t seem to have many rolls from this angle. The majority of his weight was centered on a proud belly the hung out of his t-shirts in the front. 

Jackson still tried to wear his designer clothes, but really only succeeded in looking like some kind of overstuffed sausage, his broad love handles and flabby rolls pulling the buttons and seams taught on his fancy jeans and oxford shirts. 

As for Derek, he was practically exploding out of his clothes. Jeans with popped seams and rivets were the norm nowadays, hugging monster thighs and ass cheeks that could cover almost a whole cushion on a couch each. Henley’s that hugged chubby arms and a soft chest, not to mention a big sandbag belly and love handles that flowed out under the hem. 

And on top of the weight gain, which in and of itself was considerable, the three wolves had become almost desperate in their needs to cuddle and snuggle while taking copious amounts of naps. It wasn’t uncommon for a large meal wo be followed by a puppy pile in the living room of the hale house where Stiles found himself enveloped in arms and legs as the three wolves snored and snoozed around him. 

The constant cooking and napping was taking a toll on Stiles’s waistline too, though he hadn’t gained near the amount that the wolves had. He only had a small roll that flopped over his jeans in the front, though Derek, in particular, liked to play with it, including nibbling it hungrily when he and Stiles would get intimate. 

As the wolves slowed down their feasting, Stiles smiled to himself. He had already eaten before the wolves, having set aside a small amount of every dish beforehand so he could at least get a taste. Now the platters and bowls were bare, licked clean even, and the wolves were bloated full, and had a sleepy look in their eyes that Stiles recognized. 

“Come on, boys, time for your favorite part of the meal: he after-dinner nap,” he teased. 

All three wolves followed Stiles to the living room where he’d already made a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor. Then they pawed at him, each trying to pull Stiles closest to themselves, though Derek always won, as they settled down. With their full bellies and the warmth of the puppy pile, they quickly fell asleep around Stiles, leaving him to wonder how long this hibernation preparation would be going on, and how big his wolves would be by the spring thaw.


	15. “Beached for the Holidays” Teen Wolf: Feeder!Danny Mahelani/Chubby!Jackson Whittemore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson and Danny spend some time at the beach.

Danny Mahelani walked down the beach, a mai tai in each hand. His golden, toned torso glistened in the sunlight as he strolled, a sarong wrapped around his trim waist, hips shifting rhythmically with every step. A smile played across his lips as he approached his boyfriend, Jackson Whittemore, who was laid out on a beach towel a few feet from the water’s edge. 

Jackson was stretched out like a young god, his broad arm thrown behind his head, sunglasses perched on his face, and a tiny speedo hiding his genitals...well, that and his large, pendulous belly, which filled his lap even while laying down, and poured out over his extra-wide towel in thick, juicy love handles. His rotund thighs were spread wide, but even then they touched all the way down to the knee, and his chest pointed skyward in perky round moobs. Even Jackson’s round face showed off his fatness, a thick double chin wrapping under it and chubby cheeks that made his lips look pouted. 

“Mele Kalikimaka, babe,” Danny said, holding out a drink for Jackson. 

Jackson took the pro-offered glass and smiled up at Danny. “Thanks, babe.” 

Danny folded himself down next to Jackson, watching as the larger man took the fruit skewer out of his cup and stuck it between his teeth to pull off a chunk of pineapple. He took a sip of his own beverage and sighed happily. “Isn’t this better than being home for Christmas?”

Jackson put the cup in the sand next to him and shifted so he was on his side, looking at Danny. “God yes. A week where I can just lay out in the sun and not have to watch Stiles and Derek making goo-goo eyes at each other? It’s paradise.”

Danny chuckled. “I think you’re overstating things just a little bit.”

Jackson picked up his drink again and took a gulp from it. “You don’t have to smell them.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. 

Danny raised an eyebrow, then leaned down close to Jackson. “I’m just impressed they can still...do things...given Derek’s size.” 

Jackson leaned in. “Werewolf stamina.” 

Danny let his breath ghost across Jackson’s face, then sat back and took another sip of his drink. 

Jackson growled softly, making Danny smile. 

“So is that what I have to look forward to?” Danny asked, looking at Jackson over his own sunglasses. He took a finger and lightly traced the path of a bead of sweal as it rolled down Jackson’s belly.”

Jackson scoffed. “That depends. How many luaus are you planning on taking me to?” 

Danny laughed, then leaned back down. “Enough until you become the roast pig at the center of it.” He palmed the side of Jackson’s belly and pressed a kiss onto his lips. 

Jackson surged up into the kiss and the two of them made out for a minute before they had to break for a breath of fresh air. 

Danny licked his lips. “mmm, delicious.” He leaned back on his towel and shifted to get into a comfortable position along Jackson’s side. 

Jackson laid back, smirking, and wondering what he could convince Danny to feed him for lunch.


	16. “Candy is Dandy” Teen Wolf: Derek Hale/Chubby!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek own a candy shop.

The bell over the door jingled, and Stiles sighed tiredly before plastering a smile to his face and turning to greet whoever had come in. Thankfully, it wasn’t a customer, but instead Stiles’s business partner, Derek Hale. 

“Oh thank Christ, it’s you! Hey, lock the door would you?” Stiles said. 

Derek silently complied, and then flipped off the open sign in the window. 

“Guess I got caught up cleaning and forgot to lock up.” Stiles explained. 

Derek grunted acknowledgement and moved past Stiles behind the counted to hang up his coat on the hook in the back room. 

Derek wasn’t really a talker. Not that it bothered Stiles. He could usually talk for at least three people, if given the chance. And when Derek did talk, it was usually to make some acerbic remark that would catch Stiles off guard. The man had an incredible dry wit. Unfortunately, his lack of the gift of gab meant he wasn’t very good with the customers. That’s not to say that he wasn’t popular with the customers, especially the women and gay men. Derek was a stone-cold fox, with cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass, broad shoulders, muscular arms, and abs on his abs. Not to mention an ass you could serve breakfast on. That was Stiles’s favorite part of Derek’s anatomy. He would often catch himself staring at Derek’s rear and dreaming of the things he would do to that man. 

Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek wasn’t interested. Or at least he never seemed to respond to Stiles’s flirting. Any time Stiles would make an overture, Derek would get a constipated look on his face and shove some of whatever candy he was making at Stiles before disappearing for a few minutes. 

Not that Stiles needed the help eating the candy they made. Who knew that opening a gourmet chocolate and candy shop would be so disastrous for Stiles’s waistline. Since they’d opened just a year ago, Stiles had put on at least sixty pounds, as evident by the big round belly and juicy love handles he now possessed. Most of the weight he’d gained in the past six months, stemming from stress eating during the pandemic. If it hadn’t been for Derek’s sister getting them a mention on Good Morning America’s Steals & Deals, they probably would have had to fold up and close their doors in July. But now that they had orders to be shipped all over the country, and even up to Canada and a few to Mexico, they were back in the black. 

Stiles firmly attributed their success (and his new stretchmarks) to Derek’s genius with chocolate and sugar. He could take a simple thing like a chocolate covered caramel and make it into the most sinfully delicious thing you ever put in your mouth. And that didn’t even begin to touch on what he could do with more exotic flavors. His mango bonbons were, as one customer put it, better than sex, and his coconut divinity would often have people rushing out of the store red-faced. Stiles was never sure what magic Derek put into the candies he made, but whatever it was, they were well on their way to paying off all their investors and loans. 

“So what are you making tonight?” Stiles asked as he continued to wipe down the front counters. 

“Peanut butter fudge.” Derek grunted out, not looking up. 

Stiles’s stomach rumbled at the thought. He finished the plexiglass windows they had above the counter and then headed back around to where Derek was pouring sugar into their large copper pot. “You need any help?”

Derek shook his head and silently continued measuring out ingredients. 

Stiles pulled up a stool and decided to take a break from cleaning to watch Derek work. 

Derek gave him a side-eye but didn’t comment. He poured corn syrup and water into the pot, then lit the burner under it and slowly stirred the mixture with a paddle. Stiles eyed his bulging biceps and licked his lips as Derek put the thermometer probe into the mixture and left it to heat. In another large pot he poured three different types of chocolate, several chunks of butter, and salt, then went back to the sugar mixture and waited for it to boil. 

“So, do you have all your Christmas shopping done?” Stiles asked. 

Derek grunted an affirmative.

“I still need to find something for my dad and Scott.”

“Why don’t you just give them candy?” Derek asked softly. 

Stiles snorted. “Dude, my dad already sneaks so much candy that he shouldn’t have. I’m not gonna give him some for Christmas. He’d take it as an invitation to quit his diet. And Scott...he practically lives here when he’s not at work. Dude’s gonna out-gain me if he’s not careful.”

Derek shrugged. The temperature probe beeped, and he grabbed the heavy-duty heatproof gloves to pour the molten sugar mixture into the chocolate pot. Stiles watched the way his back muscles and arms flexed hungrily. Derek used the paddle to mix the hot syrup into the chocolate, combining them thoroughly, then he scooped in several large globs of peanut butter and stirred that through as well. 

“Jesus, that smells amazing!” Stiles moaned. 

Derek didn’t say anything, but his ears may have gotten pink at the tips and his shoulders may have climbed slightly. He continued to mix the fudge, then once it was all completely combined, he waved Stiles over. Together, the two of them poured the fudge onto the large metal cooling table in the middle of the room and then Derek began using a scraper to flick the fudge back onto itself until it began to look opaque and duller in color. The process took about thirty minutes of Derek quietly working and Stiles watching like a starving man. 

“Can I have some now?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded, handing stiles a spoon so Stiles could scoop up some of the cooled candy. He put the loaded spoon into his mouth and immediately moaned whorishly. “Oh Jesus Christ, Derek! How the hell do you do this? When I make the fudge it never turns out like this. 

Derek shrugged, his face red. “Just make sure you save some for Scott.”

Stiles laughed. “Oh I’m gonna eat this batch all by myself. Fuck Scott.” 

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Derek mumbled. 

Stiles almost choked on the spoon as he sputtered. “Wha?”

Derek paled at being called out. He shrugged again. “I mean, he’s your boyfriend, so...”

Stiles started laughing. “Oh my god, Scott? My Boyfriend?! No way!” 

Derek looked down at his feet. “Oh, I just thought...”

“He’s like my best friend, dude. We’re practically brothers.” Stiles continued to chuckle. 

Derek didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to the fudge and began hewing it into chunks.

“Wait, how long have you thought I was dating Scott?” Stiles asked. 

Derek sighed. “Since I came in and saw you kissing him on the cheek.”

“What? When?” Stiles asked bewildered. 

“Last Christmas.” 

“What?” Stiles asked. “Oh! OH! Last Christmas! Scott had just found a book for me that I was gonna give my dad but it wasn’t in print anymore!” Stiles said. “It was just a silly thank you kiss. No romantical feelings involved!” 

“Ah.” Derek said. 

Stiles continued to chuckle. He picked up one of the hunks of fudge and started to gnaw on it. 

Derek kept chipping away for a minute, and then paused. “Does that...” he started, then stopped. 

“Does what, big guy?” Stiles asked. 

Derek took a deep breath and looked up at Stiles. “Does that mean that you were really flirting with me?”

“Uh...have been for over a year, yeah. Wait, you thought I was joking?”

Derek shrugged. 

“Dude! I’ve totally been flirting with you! I wanted to date you since the second time we met! Are you serious?”

Derek gave a small smile. “Really?”

“DUDE! You are like, the hottest guy I know! And you have the sharpest fucking wit! AND YOU MAKE CANDY LIKE YOUR NAME IS WONKA! I wanna have your babies!” Stiles yelled. 

Derek threw back his head and laughed a deep throaty laugh. Stiles may or may not have fallen even more in love with the guy. 

“How about we start with just a date?” Dere asked softly. 

Stiles nodded emphatically. 

“Good. And since I know I can woo you with candy, I’ll have to bring you something special.”

Stiles put his free hand onto his belly. “Oh shit, Der. If we’re dating, I’m gonna get so fucking fat!”

Derek dropped what he was doing and put his own hand onto Stiles’s belly, giving it a squeeze. “Good.”


	17. “Apple of my Pie” Supernatural: Castiel/Fat!Dean Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas finds Dean in Heaven.

Cas dropped into Dean’s heaven, looking around at the golden sunny day he’d arrived in. In front of him the Impala sat gleaming. Cas put his hand on the hood of the car, finding it cool to the touch, which meant Dean hadn’t been driving it recently. He furrowed his brow. Cas was sure Dean would have been spending most of his time in Heaven driving his beloved car. He looked up and looked around. The car was parked in front of a wooden house. Cas didn’t recognize it, but he was sure it was important to Dean. 

He walked around the car and up the porch steps to knock on the door. 

“Come in!” Dean’s voice came from inside. 

Cas pushed open the door, expecting to find Dean chatting with Sam or someone else. Instead, he found something he didn’t quite know what to do with. 

In front of him, Cas found a wide couch, surrounded on three sides by tables, and every table was covered with pie. Apple pie, cherry pie, blueberry pie, chocolate pie, Coconut cream pie...they were almost endless in their plentitude. And in the middle of this buffet of pies sat Dean Winchester. But it wasn’t the Dean Winchester Cas had known from their time on earth (and assorted realms). This Dean Winchester was...well...fat!

“Cas! Good to see you, man!” Dean boomed. 

He looked for a moment like he was trying to stand, but then gave up and shoved another piece of pie in his face. His round, bloated face with chubby stubbled cheeks and a double chin, which sagged onto his pendulous chest roll, tipped with perky pink nipples, that wrapped around under his flabby arms and in turn sagged down onto his enormous belly, which was littered with streaks of pie filling and crumbs as it sat filling the space between Dean’s massive thighs. 

“Dean.” Cas greeted. “What happened to you?”

Dean chuckled and gestured around him. “I’m in heaven, man! I can eat all the pie I want!” 

“But you’re...fat.” Cas countered. 

“Blunt as always, eh Cas?” Dean said, still smiling as he put both hands on either side of his belly and rubbed the enormous orb. “You could probably say I’ve put on a little weight.”

“A little weight? Dean, you look to have at least tripled in size since I last saw you on Earth.”

Dean shrugged. “Like I said, I can eat as much pie as I want. It was bound to happen.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “But this is Heaven. You should be able to eat anything without gaining any weight if you wanted to.”

Dean shrugged again. He picked up another slice of pie and began munching on it without breaking his gaze from the angel in front of him. 

“That means that you wanted to get fat, Dean.”

Dean didn’t answer, continuing to eat pie as the silence stretched out between them.

“So...getting fat is heaven for you Dean?” Cas asked. 

Dean nodded, licking his fingers. “Is that a problem for you, buddy?”

Cas shook his head. “No.”

“So back there on Earth, when you told me you loved me...you still mean that?” Dean asked softly. 

Cas nodded vehemently. 

Den smiled widely. “Then why don’t you hop a squat next to me! There’s plenty of pie!”

Cas moved to sit next to Dean, sliding between the pie-laden tables. Dean’s wide love handles pressed into him from the side, and Cas gently placed a hand on Dean’s belly. “Is this amenable?” he asked. 

Dean rolled his eyes, put his arm around Cas’s shoulder, and yanked him in so he was pressed completely against Dean’s fatty side. “I love you too, Angel boy.” he said, then pressed a kiss to Cas’s lips. 

Cas responded enthusiastically.


	18. “What I Ate on my Christmas Vacation” Teen Wolf: Chubby!Derek Hale/Chubby!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles make a bet.

Stiles groaned and held his stomach as he left the restaurant, Derek behind him. 

“I can’t believe you made me eat so much, Derek!” Stiles moaned. 

Derek snorted. “Oh, sure, it’s my fault you ate that entire plate of fettuccine, two baskets of garlic bread, the tiramisu, and the Italian cream cake.” 

Stiles rubbed his hefty belly, clad in a form-fitting Christmas sweater. “You didn’t have to order the calamari, the bruschetta, AND the fried mozzarella too!”

“You didn’t have to eat them!” Derek retorted. He walked past Stiles and to the Jeep. 

Stiles took a moment to stare after his husband. Derek’s powerful thighs and glutes had, over the past few years, become layered in a thick padding of chub since he’d become assistant coach at the high school, along with his potbelly in front. In his running shorts, tank top, and baseball cap he looked every inch the ex-jock fantasy of Stiles’s youth. Stiles licked his lips at the image, but then shook his head. 

“You know I can’t let good food go to waste!” 

Derek turned around and poked his finger into Stiles’s own round gut. “No, you make sure they all go to ‘waist,’ don’t you?” he teased with a smile. 

“Ha ha, big guy! Keep making jokes, and I’ll make sure you outgrow those running shorts before the end of next semester!” 

Derek pulled Stiles close to him. “Is that a promise, Mr. Stilinski?” he breathed out huskily. 

Stiles shivered. Who knew that having his husband address him like one of his students would have been such a turn on? 

“You bet your ass, Coach Hale.”

Derek grinned evilly. “I bet you you outgrow that sweater before I outgrow my shorts.” Derek taunted. 

Stiles scoffed. “That’s not a fair wager! This thing is almost too small already!”

Derek shrugged, still smiling, then turned to get into Jeep. 

Stiles huffed in disbelief and started walking around to the driver’s side of the Jeep. “Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it...” he mumbled to himself. 

Once he’d pulled himself into his seat and buckled his seatbelt, Stiles sighed and let his belly relax to its fullest. The two of them sat in the car, both breathing heavily from being stuffed. 

Finally, Stiles broke the silence. “What do I get if I win?” 

Derek smiled broadly. “I’ll make your favorite foods all week for dinner and feed them to you by hand.”

Stiles groaned as he considered the prospect. “And if you win?”

“You have to dress like a cheerleader for one of my games.” Derek said. 

“No way! It’s bad enough all my students already make jokes about that time we got caught in the locker room! I do that, and they’ll know way too much about our sex life.”

“Fine, then you have to feed me dinner for a week.” Derek said. 

Stiles thought about it. It wasn’t really that bad of a bet. Either he got Derek to eat enough to outgrow his shorts, which was a hot prospect, or he got to hand-feed (and stuff) him for a week. Either way, Derek was gonna outgrow the shorts for him. 

“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand. 

“Deal,” Derek agreed, shaking it. 

Stiles turned back to the front. “Alright, where to now?”

“We need to head to Scott and Kira’s for dinner.” 

“Oh god! We’re gonna explode all over the living room!”

“Just tell her we had a big lunch.”

“Have you seen the size of Scott recently? You think that’ll matter?”

“That sweater will be a goner before we get back from Christmas Vacation” Derek teased. 

“Oh, I am so filling your plate tonight!”


	19. “Round the Tree” Teen Wolf: Fat!Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and the boys get into some shenanigans.

It took Stiles a moment of fiddling with his keys to open the door. His eyes were a bit bleary from the long work day at the Sheriff’s office. So when he opened the front door and heard the patter of small feet approaching, Stiles immediately braced himself. 

Around the door to the living room, three small blurs came dashing up to him. “Daddy!” two of them yelled in unison, as they latched onto Stiles’s legs. The third barked excitedly as she pranced around in front of him. 

Stiles steadied himself for a moment, then reached down to ruffle his sons’ heads. “Hey there, munchkins!” he said. “Hello, Lucy,” he added, scratching the border collie mix behind the ears. 

The boys beamed up at him, Sam with his brown eyes, and Pete with his hazel-green ones. “Daddy! Daddy! We made Papa the Christmas tree!” Sam shouted. 

Stiles smiled down at his son. “You made Papa the Christmas tree?” He asked. 

“Come see! Come see!” Sam said, dashing back off. 

Stiles looped his arms around Pete and grunted as he pulled the boy up to sit on his hip. “Have you two been up to mischief?” he asked him as he followed Sam. Pete stuck his hand in his mouth shyly, and Stiles couldn’t help himself from cuddling the boy. Lucy followed him. He stopped in his tracks when he got to the living room door. 

Sitting in the middle of the couch was Stiles’s husband, in all his 500lb glory, wrapped up in lights, tinsel garland, and covered with small baubles. His sweater had ridden up in the front so that the lightly furred bottom of his belly was bared, and his wide thighs were smooshed together in the red sweatpants Stiles had bought for him the year prior. 

“Stiles, welcome home,” Derek greeted. His arms were pinned to his sides, so all he could do was dip his head slightly, deepening his double chin. The star on top of his head wobbled precariously. 

Stiles took in the picture for a moment before he burst out laughing. “Oh my Gosh, Der!” he panted, “What have you been doing?”

Derek looked down at Sam with a frown. “Well, I told the boys we could decorate the tree when you got home, but then I fell asleep and when I woke up, I found myself trapped.” 

Stiles continued to laugh as he walked over to Derek. He flicked one of the baubles which had been hooked into Derek’s sweater. “This didn’t wake you up?” 

“What woke me up was someone climbing on my legs to put the star on my head.” Derek face-glowered at Pete still in Stiles’s arms. The boy giggled. “Got me right in the you-know-where," Derek added.

Stiles chuckled, then set down Pete. “This is too good,” Stiles mumbled, pulling out his phone. “Boys, get on either side of Papa!” 

“Stiles...” Derek growled. 

But Stiles ignored him, pulling up his camera app and lining up all three of them in frame. “Say cheese!”

“Cheeeeeeeeeese!” Sam and Pete both called, smiling. Derek put on his best grumpy face, as Stiles snapped several pictures in a row. 

“Okay, boys, why don’t you and Lucy go play in the back yard for a bit.” Stiles said, making sure to email himself the picture so Derek couldn’t delete it later.

“Okay!” they yelled in unison, running for the back door. “Come on, Lucy!” Sam called, ensuring the dog would follow them. 

“Don’t get dirty!” Derek called after them, but there was no response as the back door slammed shut. 

“Caught you sleeping on the job, did they?” Stiles asked, kneeling on the couch next to Derek so he could reach the star on top of the man’s head. 

“Hey, those two take a lot of energy to keep up with. I’m entitled to a nap every now and then.” Derek grumbled. 

“And that nap had nothing to do with the rather large lunch you may have eaten?” Stiles teased, acknowledging the stack of plates on the coffee table. 

“I was hungry,” Derek grunted. 

Stiles laughed. “You’re always hungry, Der.” He patted Derek’s large belly, watching it jiggle. 

“And whose fault is that? You know, I used to wear size thirty pants before we got together. “ 

Stiles started unhooking baubles from Derek’s sweater. “Oh, you love it! And you know it!” 

“Maybe,” Derek conceded. “No will you please get me out of this?”

Stiles leaned back for a moment. “I don’t know, Derek, I think you look cute like this. Gives a whole new meaning to ‘round the tree’.”

“Stiles, I have to pee.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Stiles started unwrapping the tinsel with more speed. “Guess I’ll just have to use those silk ropes on you later.”

Derek blushed, quickly looking out the back window to make sure that the boys were still playing. “Stiles...” he chided. 

“What? Everyone else gets a nicely wrapped present!” Stiles teased. 

“You’re a menace.” Derek said. His arms came free and he grabbed Stiles by the shoulders to bring him closer. “Besides, who says I’m the one who gets all wrapped up this Christmas?”

Stiles didn’t respond verbally, instead kissing Derek passionately. Suddenly he was feeling much more awake.


	20. “Wrapped Up Tight” Teen Wolf: Fat!Derek Hale/Feeder!Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets a little tied up.

Stiles finished tying off the knots behind Derek’s back where his hands met and stepped back to take in his work. 

Ropes wrapped over Derek’s broad shoulders and around his thick arms. Loops of silk rope rode under both heavy butt cheeks and around his extra-wide hips and trunk-like thighs. Stiles looped his finger under a rope that traced over Derek’s monster love handle and around the front of his belly, where a braid pulled taut over the bulging flab, traveling all the way down and under his pendulous belly. 

“Mmmmm, you look amazing!” Stiles said. He palmed Derek’s flab and hefted his belly, lifting it up slightly only to drop it and watch it sway and jiggle, the ropes creaking.

“Feels amazing,” Derek said. 

“Love how your fat just sags and bulges out everywhere,” Stiles said, teasing Derek’s nipple on his perky moob. 

Derek gasped. “Are...are you gonna tease me all night or are you gonna feed me?” He nodded to the spread of food Stiles had laid out on the bed.

Stiles smiled wickedly. “I dunno. Teasing you all night sounds like a pretty fun plan.” He leaned forward and licked across Derek’s nipple, then blew lightly. 

“Stiles!” Derek groaned and shivered. 

Stiles picked up a cream-filled long john doughnut and held it up to Derek’s lips. “Open up for me, baby!”

Derek complied, taking as much of the doughnut as he could before biting down. He moaned as the cream, chocolate, and pastry filled his mouth. 

Stiles ran a finger under Derek’s lip and caught a drip of cream, then brought it up to his own mouth and licked it off. “Hope you’re ready, Der. That was just the beginning. 

Derek swallowed, then opened his mouth again. “Bring it on,” he challenged. 

***

Several hours later, Derek sat on the bed, his belly stuffed full. The crest of his belly was round and firm while the bottom still sagged with flab. Derek panted from his climax as Stiles undid the ropes from behind, freeing Derek’s hands. Derek groaned as he stretched his shoulders, then brought his hands around and up to his packed belly. 

Stiles slid up behind Derek and rubbed his engorged gut, hands not quite able to meet over the mound of belly. “Did so well for me, babe.” Stiles said softly, then kissed behind Derek’s ear. 

“Last time...we can...do this for a while...” Derek grunted out. “Wanted...to make sure...it was a good one.”

Stiles furrowed his brow and slid around Derek so he could see the other man’s face. “What do you mean? Are you okay? Was it not fun for you?”

“No it’s...just gonna...be hard to...do this with...a baby...” Derek panted. 

“A baby? What...wait a minute, you’re pregnant?” Stiles yelled. 

Derek nodded, continuing to cradle and massage his stuffed gut. 

“What?! When?! I thought that could only happen on a full moon!” Stiles shouted. 

“Stiles...What was...Halloween?” Derek asked. 

Stiles thought about it a minute, then sighed. “Shit.” He sank onto the mattress next to Derek. 

“Are you...unhappy?”

“Huh? Whoa! No way!” Stiles assured his husband. “I’m just...surprised!” Stiles laughed and began helping rub Derek’s stomach again. “Here I was thinking we’d have a little more time before we go for another one.”

Derek let out a deep burp from all the rubbing, and then sighed. “I did too. At least we have a couple more weeks before we have to hold off on this kind of thing?”

Stiles chuckled. “Well, I know dad won’t mind spending time with his grandsons, but I think I’ll have to find a new doughnut shop. The lady at the last one gave me a really funny look when I walked out with 6 dozen. 

Derek burped again. “Next time make it seven. We can start the baby weight early.”

“Jesus, Der. You put on 60 pounds with Pete. And you weren’t even trying!” 

“I know. Wanna see if we can top that?” Derek asked. 

Stiles leaned in and kissed his husband. “Fuck yeah.” 

Derek nuzzled Stiles’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Stiles.”

“Merry Christmas, Der.”


	21. “Skating on ~~Thin~~ Thicc Ice” Teen Wolf: Chubby!Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles sees Derek skating and falls in love.

Stiles settled onto the bench with a sigh. Scott had blackmailed him into driving he and Allison on their anniversary date and now he was stuck here, at the skating rink, waiting for the two of them to finish their adorable couple’s skate. It hadn’t been too bad at the beginning. Stiles had ordered take-out from the restaurant so he could eat in the jeep, and he had his phone to watch a movie while he waited for them to come out, but then his charger had failed and now his phone was dead, meaning he had nothing to do to distract himself while Scott and Allison circled the rink to the sounds of Taylor Swift and Michael Bublé singing Christmas songs. 

At least Stiles had the foresight to bring his jacket so he wasn’t freezing while he waited. Stiles looked around, watching the other couples and parents with their kids. It was probably a perfect romantic environment…which only served to make Stiles feel a little lonely. To distract himself, he started counting falls and making bets with himself who would trip next. 

He was up to thirteen tumbles on the ice when a man caught his eye. This man wore a dark long coat more appropriate for winter in someplace cold like New York or Chicago. He had dark, almost pitch black hair and a face that probably belonged on a clothing add, even with the glower he currently had. Stiles couldn’t chase the feeling that there was something familiar about him, but he couldn’t place the guy.. The man dropped onto a bench near Stiles without acknowledging him, and proceeded to tie on what were obviously personal ice skates. 

“Wow, those look pretty fancy,” Stiles found himself saying.

The man glanced up at Stiles, then went back to his skates. “They should. They cost $800.”

“$800!” Stiles yelled, earning him a few looks as his voice echoed across the rink. “Dude,” he said quieter, “that’s would practically buy me a new jeep!”

The man looked up again with one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure you’d want to drive a jeep that only cost $800?”

Stiles shrugged. “What? Sure! I mean…Oh! Not buy an actual new car or anything. But it would fix everything on the one I have now.”

“Ah.” The man said, then stood up. “In that case I should maybe not ask you to watch my coat.”

“Hey, I’m a trustworthy dude, dude! My dad’s the Sheriff!” Stiles protested.

“You’re Sheriff Stilinski’s son?” the man asked.

“Yeah. How do you know my dad?” 

“My sister Laura works for him.”

“Your sister…you’re Derek Hale?!” Stiles asked incredulously.

Derek grimaced. He knew that tone of voice. “Yes. I’m Derek Hale. Or I used to be.”

“Dude! You’re, like, famous! Didn’t you skate at the olympics?”

Derek sighed. “Yep. That’s me.”

“Dude, so cool!” Stiles said. “So…still need me to watch your jacket?”

“That depends. Am I gonna regret my decision?” Derek shrugged off his coat. 

“Probably,” Stiles said, holding out his hand. 

Derek slowly handed over his coat, the pulled down the black sweatshirt he wore. 

Stiles smirked as he grabbed the coat and put it onto the bench next to him. When he looked back up, Derek was walking away toward the gate that let people onto the rink.stiles couldn’t help the gasp that came out of his mouth as he took in Derek’s form from behind. While Derek, in his coat, had shown off broad shoulders his model face, the sweatpants he wore underneath clung to his legs and ass like a second skin. And what an ass! 

Stiles wouldn’t ever tell anyone (except Scott who knew already anyways) but he had been a fan of Derek’s years ago when he was making his run for gold at the olympics. Combined hometown pride and a bisexual awakening had left Stiles with quite a crush on Derek. Derek had been a speed skater, and already had quite the bulbous ass all those years ago. Stiles used to dream about the things he would do to that ass, and all those feelings were flooding back to him as he watched Derek walk away from him.

Only this Derek was definitely shaped differently than the Derek who won silver in Nagano all those years ago. Whether from lack of athletic activities or whatever, this Derek had definitely put on some weight. His hips were wide, and his thighs were trunk like, all making his butt look even bigger. There was no other way to say it; Derek had gotten thiccc with three C’s. And apparently the weight didn’t stop there, if the small budding love handles stiles spotted had anything to say about it. Stiles had sworn he’d seen some softness in front as well, but the sweatshirt hid it pretty well so it wasn’t as much. But from the waist down…Derek was a downright pear!

Stiles watched as Derek took a few laps around the rink. A few people seemed to notice Derek, though most would only nod at him. A couple were watching like Stiles though, with interest. Stiles subconsciously hugged Derek’s jacket closer. 

After a few times around the rink, Derek began doing more elaborate skating tricks; skating backwards, changing directions suddenly, sliding across the ice so sprays of snow shot out from his blades. Every move was precise and athletic. Despite Derek’s size, he hadn’t seemed to lost a step in his skating ability. 

Then he did a jump. It wasn’t anything extravagant, like a triple salchow, but it was magnificent , not least of all because of how Derek’s butt bounced when he landed. Then he did another, and another. Then he began to pick up speed, circling the rink. Stiles held his breath while he watched, waiting, until finally Derek spun out into a beautiful swanlike landing. Stiles leapt to his feet and clapped, loudly cheering. Derek smiled as he made his way back over to the wall.

“So why aren’t you out here?” Derek called.

“You ever seen Bambi? Now add flailing and bloodshed.” 

Derek laughed. “I bet I could teach you.”

“How much?” Stiles asked. 

Derek chuckled again, and leaned over the rail. “How about dinner?”

Stiles gulped at the serious glint in Derek’s eyes. Was this really happening? “And what do I get if I win?”

Derek shrugged. “What do you want?”

Stiles smirked. “How about Dessert?” 

Derek grinned. “How about we do both?”

Stiles nodded. “We could do that.”

Derek skated around through the gate and walked over next to Stiles. He plopped down and immediately started taking off his skates. 

“What…now?” Stiles sputtered.

Derek looked up at him and smiled. “Why not?”

Stiles looked out at the rink, where Scott and Allison were still skating hand in hand. Then he thought about what this could mean for him. Stiles shrugged. “You’re right. Why not?”

Derek slipped on his shoes and stood up. He held out his hand and Stiles took it. 

“I was asking for my jacket back but I’ll take your hand,” Derek chuckled. 

Stiles blushed and passed over the jacket, but Derek just looped it over his arm and kept hold of Stiles’s other hand.

Stiles shot a quick text off to Scott as he left the rink with Derek. “Better call an Uber! I’ve got a date with Derek Hale!”


	22. “Ghosts of Christmas (re)pasts” Avengers: Feeder!Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets stuffed for Christmas

“Buuuuuuuck!” Steve whined from the bedroom.

In the kitchen, Bucky chuckled as he finished drying the massive stack of pots and pans dinner had left them with. Who knew feeding Captain America could be such a marathon? Well…Bucky did. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Bucky called. He dried his hands and made his way through their apartment in Avengers Tower to where his boyfriend waited. 

Walking in the bedroom, Bucky couldn’t help but admire the picture Steve made. There he sat, beached, like some sort of gluttonous god, on their bed. His massive, Stuffed stomach was like a yoga ball in front of him, resting on the mattress between his spread thighs. Already, Steve’s enhanced metabolism was working hard to digest the gargantuan meal he had consumed. His thighs and arms had begun to lose their definition, and his proud pecs had begun to grow soft and sag onto his engorged food capsule.

Bucky slid onto the bed and put himself in front of Steve, planting a hand on either side of the orb. “Can’t believe you ate so much, Stevie,” Bucky teased. He squeezed slightly, eliciting a grunt and a burp from the man. 

“Can’t…believe…you fed…URP…me so much!” Steve panted out. 

Bucky rubbed the enormous belly in front of him, eliciting small burps and hiccoughs from Steve. “You heard Bruce, babe. If you want to gain weight, you’re gonna have to flood your metabolism with calories. And see,” Bucky tickled where a small double chin was already coming in on Steve, “it’s working already!”

Steve let out a long, deep belch and get his stomach settle. “Yeah but…you made me eat so fast I keep burping!” 

Bucky shrugged. “You need to keep up the intake. Otherwise you get full and stop eating.” He swatted Steve’s stuffed gut, eliciting another belch. “Besides, consider them ghosts of Christmas’ repast.” 

Steve groaned. “Buck, that was awful.”

Bucky smiled. “You’re the one who made the bet with Tony that landed you playing the jolly fat man.”

A knock at the door caught both their attentions. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asked. 

Bucky pulled himself off the bed. “That’ll be your next meal.” He drummed his fingers on Steve’s gut. “You’ve got at least 60 lbs to go.”

Steve moaned as Bucky trotted off to gather the food.


	23. “Christmas Movie Marathon” Teen Wolf: Fat!Derek Hale/Feeder!Stiles Stilinski

Stiles slowly made his way up the ramp into the theater. The attendant was impatiently checking his watch off to the side, which made Stiles grin and shake his head slightly. Holding his giant bucket of popcorn in one arm, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket as he approached the man. 

“Sorry, took us a minute to find parking,” Stiles apologized. 

The attendant frowned at Stiles. “No need to apologize, sir...”

“And then the big guy wanted a snack, so,…" Stiles hefted the bucket as he slid a bill from his wallet, then slapped it into the attendant’s hand. “Just make sure his bucket’s never empty, alright?” Stiles said with a smile. 

The attendant looked down and saw the $100 bill in his hand. His eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Wow! Um, you know, you don’t have to tip me, sir, it’s my job to take care of you all today...”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna be working hard with us. And we did rent out the whole theater.” Stiles shrugged. 

Behind Stiles there came the sounds of shuffling and heavy breathing. The attendant was tall enough to see past Stiles so when he caught sight of the wall of a human coming up the ramp, he couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping open. 

Stiles smirked at the expression. It was the one most people got when they saw Derek for the first time. He turned and looked at what the other man was seeing. 

Derek was slowly working his way up the ramp from the theater doors. He had to shuffle up at an angle as the hallway was too narrow for his wide hips and love handles, but if he’d turned sideways he would have been too big back-to-front given his big, heavy belly and his massive ass. With every step, fat rippled across his body, from his triple chin, to his flabby chest, to his belly and flanks, to his massive thighs, hips and ass, and even his juicy calves. In each ham-hock arm, he had a massive drink from the concession stand tucked in at the elbow, and in each chubby hand he held three or four boxes of candy. 

Despite his enormous size, Derek looked rather well put together. His dark hair was quaffed impeccably, as was his artful stubble, which only served to highlight his round, chubby face and multiple chins. His jean’s hugged his massive thighs, showing off the muscle beneath the layer of chub, and he wore a black leather jacket over his blanket-ous v-neck gray t-shirt. A small sliver of the end of his belly was visible to both Stiles and the attendant, but that was more likely due to the myriad of snacks he held in his arms than due to a sizing issue. 

Stiles looked back at the attendant, who was still staring open-mouthed as Derek crab-walked into the room, a whole parade of one. “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you can restrain yourself from making any comments,” he whispered to the man. 

The attendant’s mouth clicked shut and he blushed slightly as he looked back at Stiles. “Sir, I would never...”

Stiles nodded. “Of course not. What’s your name by the way?”

“Isaac,” the attendant said. 

“Isaac. Good to meet you.” Stiles shook his hand for a moment, then turned and went to help Derek. 

The massive man had made his way out of the ramp corridor and was turning to sit in the loveseat-sized recliner that would usually have sat two people comfortably. Derek’s wide hips brushed both arms on either side as he sat, and the chairs creaked and squealed lightly as he sat but held up. 

“Need anything Der?” 

“Need...someplace...to set...my stuff...” Derek puffed. 

As if summoned, Isaac was next to them with a rolling cart that he positioned in front of Derek’s massive form. “Is this big enough? I can get another one.”

Derek huffed, and began dropping his candy and drinks onto the cart. 

“Probably need one more,” Stiles said, gesturing to the massive bucket of popcorn still in his arms. 

Isaac nodded and disappeared. 

Derek made grabby hands at the bucket. 

Stiles rolled his eyes playfully as he hefted the massive bin of popcorn over to him. 

Derek immediately began stuffing his face with the salty, buttery snackfood. 

“Calm down, Babe! They haven’t even started the first movie, yet! And we paid for a full marathon of Christmas movies.”

Derek grunted around his mouthful, then swallowed. “Gotta...get our...money’s worth...” he said. 

Stiles chuckled, then turned and plopped into the next seat. It wasn’t as close to Derek as he would have liked to be, but there was no room on that set of seats, and even Stiles wasn’t brave enough to sit on the theater floor. 

Isaac returned immediately with another cart. He positioned it to Derek’s other side where he could set the popcorn bucket when he wanted. “Is anyone else joining you this evening,” Isaac asked as he glanced up at the small, but empty theater. 

“Nope, just the two of us,” Stiles said. “It’s our annual tradition. Derek and I have been coming here for five years. Though we used to be able to sit together, right babe?” 

Derek nodded, continuing to munch on the popcorn. 

“Okay, then I’ll have them start the movies. And maybe get a refill...” 

Isaac scurried off, and Stiles smiled after him. The kid was gonna take good care of Derek, which meant Stiles could relax and enjoy the movies. Sliding his hand over, Stiles put his hand onto Derek’s thick forearm. Derek would be too busy eating to hold his hand all day, but at least this way they could stay connected. 

As the lights went down, Stiles couldn’t help but wonder how big Derek would be next year, and if they’d have to continue their little tradition at home.


End file.
